


Trapped in Amber

by TransientPokemonMaster



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Loneliness, Lovers to Friends, Maximum Victory - Freeform, Minor Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, POV Multiple, Rachel Amber Lives, Reconciliation, References to Drugs, Save Chloe Price Ending, Sexual Tension, Time Travel, amberprice, brief - Freeform, more tags to come, pricefield, up to April 20th 2013
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:08:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransientPokemonMaster/pseuds/TransientPokemonMaster
Summary: Rachel Amber is a hard person to forget, but Chloe did her best, for Max's sake.Really she did.Even eight years seperated from Rachel, she can't make herself let go of her first love, and Max can only let it go for so long before doing something about it.But when given a second chance, can Rachel make up for the harm she caused, and repair the damage she's done? Or will her life be saved, only to watch all she cares about leave?Max will somehow have to move on while herwifebestfriend tries to move past her girlfriend's betrayals, all the while searching for answers about an inevitable storm and the powers that are tied to it.(I hated my first vague summary, so I changed it.)
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Victoria Chase, Rachel Amber/Chloe Price
Comments: 30
Kudos: 55





	1. Restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> So this is a story I've had kicking around in my WIPs for the better part of a couple of years now @.@ I have a few chapters written and the plot is loosely outlined for now. Honestly, I meant to do this story once my current Miraculous Ladybug project is done, but if I don't start posting what I have, I'm just going to keep editing it into the ground lol
> 
> But I've been on a serious LiS kick through quarantine and have been having the feels for the girls like crazy! So I thought now was a good time to start posting it ^.^ 
> 
> This is going to start with Rachel here, and then we're going to jump to the day after the storm with Max and Chloe, then an eight year jump to the future before we roll it back. I promise there's a rhyme and reason lol we just have to get there :P 
> 
> For the moment, this story is going to be my backburner project, so updates won't be super frequent. But now, I'll post what I have once a week, which is up to chapter 5 atm. So, we've got a bit ^.^ but after that updates will probably look more like once a month, though hiatus' are possible. 
> 
> Like I said, backburner project for now. 
> 
> Tbh I doubt that'll really surprise anyone though since a lot of fics for this fandom exist in a state of hiatus lol (<\--the 'lol' hides the pain of waiting for some of my favorite fics to update though might never at this rate ;_;)
> 
> But, until that day comes, here's chapter one! ^.^ 
> 
> Just so we're clear, this story is gonna be angsty for... The foreseeable future xD 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

On a sleepless night in the Price household, Rachel lay in Chloe’s arms, staring at the dresser against the wall. Her girlfriend snored gently behind her, the half-contented lie that Rachel had let her live in for far too long nagging at her mind, as always. 

Guilt wrapped around her heart like a cocoon, but at this point she was so comfortable in it’s embrace that she wasn’t sure she could break free. She was terrified to know what that butterfly would look like. 

After all, if there was one thing she always excelled at, it was letting those she cared about down. 

Rose with their awkward relationship for the last three years. 

Sera with her frequent and varied drug use which bordered on the habitual. 

Even her father with his ridiculous expectations of her, nevermind the fact that they barely spoke anymore. 

Letting the people closest to her down was inevitable. It was just a matter of time. 

Speaking of time…

Rachel tapped her phone’s lock button and was bathed in the soft white light of the dimmed screen. Chloe’s face stared happily back at her from behind the digits that read:

2:18am, April 20th, 2013. 

She stared back at her girlfriend’s happy face and her gut continued to twist long after the screen went dark again. 

Rachel had to tell her the truth. Chloe deserved that much. 

She thought of the note she had started and put off a half dozen times and could feel a small panic rise in her chest. 

Where did she leave it? 

Was it at the junkyard? 

Her locker, maybe? 

The last time she'd tried to write it, Rachel had said more than she meant to before she scribbled several lines out and stopped. After that, she'd just tried telling Chloe straight up about what she had done, but Rachel had only gotten as far as telling her that she'd met someone incredible before being a chickenshit and mumbling something about it being Chloe. 

The big sap had only smiled and kissed her in response. 

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she exhaled. 

She'd been so desperate for their escape from Arcadia Bay for so long that she’d started throwing herself at anything that looked like an opportunity. 

Images of a filthy RV came unbidden to her mind for the thousandth time that week. They made her nauseous as she tried to block out the memories that came with them.

Behind her, Chloe stirred, and the ridiculous fear that she may have read Rachel’s mind seized her heart for a second. 

But the girl quickly settled, and the arm around her waist pulled Rachel closer while Chloe mumbled her name. 

Rachel could just make out Chloe’s fingernails in the dark where her arm was curled above Rachel’s head. She smiled and entwined her girlfriend’s fingers with her own. She loved the shade of blue on her nails. It went so well with the blue and red of her hair too. Gorgeous as she was, Chloe looked fucking incredible in blue. 

Another heavy sigh escaped her as she felt Chloe’s hand tighten slightly. Even in her sleep, the girl loved to hold Rachel. 

Tomorrow. 

Maybe… 

Soon, for sure.

She knew she couldn’t put it off much longer. Chloe meant too much to her to lie to anymore. And if that meant that she didn’t want Rachel in her life for all her lies, well… it wasn’t like she deserved Chloe anyway. 

Being with Chloe made her happy in ways that Rachel had never been before. Chloe was so full of life, so confident, and didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought of her. How could she not fall for Chloe? There had never been anyone in her life who made Rachel feel more accepted or loved.

Especially when her entire life had been spent doing her best to kiss ass and be a people pleaser. Rachel spent so much time living for others that she forgot to live at all. But Chloe had shown her the freedom of living for herself. 

And what did she do when she realized she had that freedom? She fucked up the one real thing in her life. The one person who had loved her unconditionally, Rachel had turned her back on. 

Granted, Chloe didn’t know. But then, Rachel was always good at keeping secrets, at lying. Being so fake all her life, she had learned to lie from an early age. It was the only way to navigate her life. Lies, manipulation, charm, and charisma. All tools that she picked up from the DA’s toolbox. 

But the average person didn’t play those games. _Chloe_ certainly didn’t. The feisty punk wore her emotions on her sleeve, and Rachel loved her honesty, adored her for it. Sure she could be withdrawn in the emotion department now and then. But if there was one person who could get her girl to open up, it was Rachel. 

Between the two of them, Rachel had never been happier. She knew for a fact that, at least since William’s passing, _Chloe_ hadn’t been either. 

Sure, they had their rough moments, their fights. But they always made up. If she was being honest, sometimes she would start a fight with Chloe for no other reason than to have makeup sex later. The outpouring of love and passion that came with it each time made Rachel’s toes curl in anticipation every time her girlfriend got so much as annoyed. 

Of course, that would probably be absent from this fight. 

If she even put up a fight at all. 

This time around, she deserved whatever Chloe said to her. 

It would probably be true anyway.

Maybe Chloe would be able to understand Mark. He was handsome, debonair, intelligent, and he had _incredible_ connections with models and agencies in California. He was exciting, and made Rachel feel respected and heard in ways that no one ever had before. 

Not even Chloe. 

And he was an incredible photographer to boot.

At first, he had been an easy way to smother her guilt over Frank. She was so sure she would lose Chloe because of what had happened with Frank that she justified Mark as an emotional fallback when they eventually ended.

Not to mention his connections could help her to get out of here and away from all of her mistakes. But knowing how incredible he was, Rachel had a hard time feeling like he was one of them. 

And that only made the guilt that roiled inside of her that much worse. 

Frank was different though. 

There wasn’t a single good reason that could possibly excuse Frank, and Rachel knew it. 

At the time, it had been two years after she and Chloe had met, and they were getting desperate to get the fuck out of dodge. They both knew that Frank had to have serious cash if they could get their hands on it, or even his stash if all else failed. Even if they had to deal on the road, it would still be a source of income that would let them finally leave town altogether. 

So Rachel started buying from him instead of Chloe. She knew that Frank was into her, the sick old fuck, but it was an in, so she didn’t think much of it. After a few times she started to gain his trust, and he invited her to hangout now and again, and eventually even shared his private stash with her. 

What started as casually smoking a bowl became snorting a line, and had eventually morphed into shooting up together. 

It wasn't often. 

Just enough to have fun. 

Rachel wasn't looking to get addicted after all, and in a fucked up way, the drugs made her understand better what Sera had gone through. . 

Shared habits or something like that. 

But it wasn’t until the first time that she made out with Frank that she realized she might be screwing up. But the goal was in sight, and she had been sure that if she could just get Frank high enough, he would conk out and she could pilfer anything and everything from him. 

That had been the plan at least… 

But it backfired, and instead of him, it was her who blacked out. The last thing she could remember was them both being handsy in a drugged out fog, and then when she came to, she was naked next to a passed out Frank in his bed. 

She had never felt so disgusting. It took everything in her to keep quiet as she quickly got dressed and ran out of there. Rachel never planned on telling Chloe about it, and the only thing she even did to acknowledge that it had happened was to buy some plan-b, get tested, and then get herself wasted to hope that she would forget.

For weeks after, Rachel was short with Chloe. She couldn’t bring herself to come out and say it, but she found herself continually being unnecessarily cruel in the hopes that Chloe would see how gross she was now. 

Rachel felt tainted, stained by Frank’s touch, and she was sick to her stomach every time she thought of him. 

How could Chloe not taste him in her kiss, smell him in her hair, or see his fingerprints all over her?

For weeks, she avoided him and did her best to make herself scarce every time he showed up. But for a few months, she had managed to get the best deals out of Frank. Chloe finally badgered her into going to see Frank about weed after they had been out for days. It devolved into a fight, and she ended up leaving with nothing. 

It was hard to face Chloe after that, and Rachel couldn’t make herself admit the truth, no matter how much she wanted to. It was Rachel’s fault, not Chloe’s, but she couldn’t help the resentment that built in her for not being able to see what Rachel had gone through. They fought more, and Rachel just started blaming her for everything. 

Burned herself with her straightener? Fucking _Chloe_ , distracted her. 

Failed a test? Why didn’t _Chloe_ help her study? 

Forgot her math book at Chloe’s? Why hadn’t _Chloe_ remembered where it was? 

Got too drunk? _Chloe_ should have watched her. 

Fucked up her eyeliner? She was rusty because _Chloe_ made her feel comfortable without makeup. 

She got sick? If _Chloe_ didn’t share pipes and drinks with everyone! 

_It rained?_ Well now she was stuck somewhere _with_ or _without Chloe_.

Rationally, Rachel knew that it wasn’t her fault. But she was just always _there_. She was an easy outlet, and she knew Chloe wouldn’t leave her for it. The girl was like a kicked puppy. Between her friend Max and her dad? Girl had abandonment issues out the ass. 

Rachel could have stabbed her, and Chloe would apologize for getting blood on the knife.

Really though? 

Rachel was scared. 

She could see how much Chloe loved her, trusted her, _wanted_ her, and it was scary. She was _so_ sure about them, and Rachel had never been that sure about _anything_. And she knew that if she told Chloe the truth, it would all be gone. 

She didn’t want to let her down. 

But letting others down is what she does best.

Rachel walked on eggshells for weeks around her before finally telling Chloe that she needed to take a break. She just couldn’t handle the guilt that her brain kept putting her through. It took her a few days, but she eventually decided that this wasn’t going to be for nothing. 

She went back to Frank, and started hanging with him again. Rachel made him feel like they were together, made him promises, and did… things… with him. She wasn’t proud of herself, but she told herself that if she could get what she and Chloe needed to leave town, then it would be worth it.

And honestly, if she stayed high enough, spending so much time with Frank was easy.

In a fucked up way, she felt free. He could go _anywhere_ in that RV of his. Sure, she might have had the slightest withdrawal symptoms if she had too much fun on any one substance for too long, but that wasn’t too bad. 

A body ache now and again, an itch here, a little paranoia there. 

So what?

Eventually though, she began to miss Chloe, and Rachel sobered up long enough to really look at what she was doing. She felt revolting, and it was all she could do to look at her reflection in the mirror. 

She’d been running drugs for Frank for extra cash, but it wasn't enough to justify _any_ of it. She wanted out. 

So, Rachel started stealing money and drugs from Frank here and there and doing her best to find funds to get her and Chloe out of Arcadia Bay that much faster. 

It was the only way she could justify what she had done with him. 

In a way, it felt like atonement. 

But only in the most hollow of ways.

It was only a few months, but soon, Frank started to notice how jittery she was. No matter how many times he tried to talk to her, she shut him down. Eventually, he got mad at her for being a bitch to him, and he was scary when he was high and angry. He threw things, shouted in a way that Chloe or _anyone_ , never had at her. 

Sometimes she could still see the knife he pulled on her as clearly as when it happened. 

Damon’s knife.

After that, money or no, she knew she had to end things. Seeing that knife... the knife that had almost killed her… It confirmed what she had been too scared to admit all along. 

Frank had killed him. 

And in that moment, she realized that he could just as easily kill her too.

When she came back to Chloe, Rachel said she was more certain of them now. Sure, they had still hung out a bit for those months, but she said she needed space, and Chloe had granted her that. She never asked questions, and to this day almost seemed scared of what the answers would be if she did.

But Chloe didn’t quite look at her the same way after it either. 

She still loved Rachel, but she could see Chloe holding back now. There was a fear that wasn’t there before, and a resentment that dimmed the way she looked at her. 

There used to be so much light in those glances and her eyes almost seemed to sparkle when they turned Rachel's way. She didn't realize how special those looks had made her feel until they were gone.

It reminded Rachel of when Chloe talked about Max. 

Mark came along a couple of months after she saw that look for the first time. 

Shaking herself from the past, she clicked her lock button again and sighed as the time was displayed.

2:50am, April 20th, 2013.

The guilt made sleep impossible.

Chloe would realize soon though. Then she would finally get up the nerve to leave her. 

She would finally see Rachel for who and what she was. 

It was just a matter of time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we go! 
> 
> Yeah, for the most part this story is canon compliant and Rachel's prologue here is going to be the end of that compliance after a certain point in the story. 
> 
> But first we have to go to the future and make our cinnamon roll (Max) suffer ; P 
> 
> We'll get more into why in the next couple of chapters, but Rachel's last day in this story before being abducted by Jeffershit is April 20th, which is why this chapter is set this night. 
> 
> You know... For the drama ^.^;
> 
> But hopefully you enjoyed this! Let me know your thoughts, and I'll get back to you :D
> 
> Until then, see you next week <3


	2. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Chloe leave town, Rachel's memory haunts her, and the past comes alive in song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> So, I'm still in a rut over my other story and that sucks... But I've got this chapter ready to go at least! :D So I guess that's something lol 
> 
> This chapter is mostly a take on Max and Chloe leaving town after the Bae ending with flashes to the past from Chloe's memory with Rachel. Of course, it is angsty as fuck :P It just didn't feel right to me that Chloe could so easily happily up and leave town after just finding Rachel's body and having everyone she's ever known wiped from the earth. So, she mourns and has a struggle. 
> 
> So this chapter has a lot of songs referenced in it, and the lyrics of a few are in it because they're relevant to the story. I'll list them all though if you're interested or want to play them alongside the reading. I know I hate reading song lyrics without knowing the rhythm or intonation so, here!
> 
> Those songs are:
> 
> 1) [Carnival- Bikini Kill](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w4hEbGlrxqw)  
> 2) [Rebel Girl- Bikini Kill](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TO-8kk2T9b8)  
> 3) [I Miss You- Blink-182](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEiexyUqZLA)  
> 4) [The Rock Show- Blink-182](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y66ivORGJ5o)
> 
> I just imagine Chloe as being a very music oriented person, and these songs stood out especially to me being important to her and Rachel's relationship. Well... minus Carnival lol that one I just thought was fun to include for Max's sake xD The Rock Show especially just fit them so fucking perfectly, it's like they were based around it lol If you listen to any of them, give that one a go. 
> 
> I have so much early 90's to 2000's punk rock that I listen to that reminds me of Chloe, I just want to include it all D: But alas, only so much will fit into a narrative! But there will probably be more dropped in future chapters ;D
> 
> Until then though, here you go! Enjoy <3

Curled into a small ball on the floor of the dusty concrete building by the lighthouse, Chloe cried as quietly as she could. She didn’t understand why Max would choose to keep her over the entire town. 

Chloe had been ready to face the end, even welcomed it. 

She had already seen so much, and she was so tired. 

She didn’t deserve to have so many lives put before her own. 

She cried for her mom. For her dad. For Arcadia Bay. For all the people who were dead now so that she could live. 

But mostly? 

She cried for Rachel. 

Part of her wished Max would have sacrificed her so that, on the off chance there was an afterlife, she could spend it with her. 

Next to her, watching Chloe cry as she had for hours, Rachel sat with her knees pulled to her chest, her chin resting on top of them. She looked worried, but she hadn’t spoken in the entire time she’d been there. She just… watched. 

It wasn’t like with William, the way he had started coming to her days after his funeral. She’d seen her father off and on for years. Sometimes in brief moments, other times in dreams, and occasionally they would sit down and talk. 

But Chloe hadn’t seen Rachel in six months. Not in the flesh, or in her fucked up delusions. Not until they found her body anyways. Since then, she’d followed Chloe quietly, staring at her with this guilty fucking look, like she wanted to aplogize or justify herself, but she never did. If not for all the craziness of the last couple of days, Chloe would have screamed at her, but she hadn’t had the time or the headspace. 

But now that it was all over, the reality of seeing her here weighed on Chloe like a cinder block. Now that she’d accepted her death, she just got to be another spectre that haunted her psyche. 

It was barely two days since they found Rachel’s body, and she hadn’t had time to _feel_ her loss. Sure, she broke down at the junkyard, but the reality hadn’t sunk in yet. She’d sought revenge, and raged at her loss. 

But now that it was over? 

Reality finally hit, and the realization that Rachel was truly gone overwhelmed her. 

For so long, Chloe held out hope that Rachel was anywhere else in the world, living life without her. As much as she hated the idea, hated _Rachel_ for it, it was better than the fear that nagged at her everyday she didn’t hear from her. 

It was easier to think that she had just left, like she said that first day they met. Since she disappeared, Chloe had done her best to downplay their relationship, to decide that they had just been friends, and privately berated herself for thinking there was more there. Believing the alternative, that the person who meant the most to her in the world, had abandoned her like nothing was so much worse. After all, if someone was supposed to love you, they didn’t just dip on you without a word, right? 

But all of a sudden, there was a Rachel shaped hole in the world and Chloe could feel the ragged edges of that reality staring unfeelingly back. All the time she had wasted looking for her, hating her, missing her, and the truth had been twenty feet from her for months. The pain of her being gone felt new again, magnified by the truth of what happened to her. 

But the worst part was, even with all they had found out about Rachel in the past week, Chloe still loved her. 

She was pretty sure she always would. 

Chloe wanted to hate her, wished she could scream at her for hiding so much. But she only missed her. 

God, she wanted to just hold her one more time. To wake up with her in her arms again, like she had countless times before.

She spared a blurred glance at the quiet ghost of her past, but couldn’t find it in herself to ask the questions that burned in her mind.

Why didn't Rachel tell her? About Frank? About Jefferson? Was she ashamed? Chloe hoped that was it… but there was the fear that tugged at her heart. The one that said she didn’t actually love Chloe. That the ‘broken girl from a broken home’, was just a play thing to her, like Eliot had said. 

But Rachel told her during the Tempest that she wouldn't get tired of her, and Chloe had believed her. 

She wanted to believe it so desperately that she would have given anything to make it true.

Had Rachel been wrong?

The uncertainty of it was the worst part. She had so many questions that would never be answered. Not by the apparition sitting next to her at least.

Nothing had ever hurt like this.

Max had left, but she came back, and brought with her a joy that Chloe had forgotten how to feel. Her dad had died, but Joyce was always there picking her daughter back up and encouraging her to go on, no matter how much she resisted. 

Until she had married David at least. 

And now her mom was gone too. Ripped to shreds by a tornado in a rinky-dink diner in a town that was a pimple on the ass-end of the world.

But still, Rachel hurt more. 

All the unanswered questions, the future plans that were shot to shit. The whole life Chloe had imagined, suddenly didn't exist. She had Max, but she had no idea what that future would look like, let alone what that meant. 

Chloe loved Max. She realized now that she always had. When they were kids, she was too young to understand how she felt, and didn't realize how much more than a friendship she could have had with her. 

Now though? Chloe wasn’t sure she could love Max the way she deserved.

She would never tell Max, but what she felt… _feels_ for Rachel? It was special. Probably once in a lifetime. And even if she could feel that way for Max, Chloe wasn’t sure if she wanted to. In a way, it felt like it might soil what she and Rachel had shared, cheapen it somehow. She and Max had said forever, and Chloe had meant it. 

She could handle forever with the way Max made her feel.

It was enough. 

More than enough. 

She was the only person in the entire world Chloe felt like she had left to trust. 

If there was one person she wanted by her side now, it was Max. 

But she could never let herself feel like _that_ again. She gave every ounce of herself to loving Rachel. She had become Chloe’s whole world, the fulcrum on which her whole universe turned. But now she just felt... hollow. She wasn’t sure she was emotionally capable of doing that again. 

Not when every plan for her future lay dumped like garbage in a junkyard pit.

She stole a glance at Max as she stirred from sleep. Somehow the girl had passed out on the cold dusty concrete almost the second she laid down her head. But Chloe didn’t sleep a wink. They came in for shelter once they were soaked to the bone and freezing, the storm dissipating as the night wore on.

Arcadia Bay had mostly been wiped out at that point anyway. She hadn’t been able to drag Max away for a long time, and she had insisted that if she didn’t save them, then she should at least watch what she had wrought.

Max sat up and looked around the dimly lit structure. Chloe could see her trying to process where they were and what happened. And then Max’s eyes landed on her, and for a second she had a reassured smile. 

Poor girl was probably afraid she had woken up in another timeline again. But then she really looked at Chloe, and Rachel vanished as Max came to be by her side. 

“Chloe? What’s wrong?” Honestly, the concern in Max’s voice was touching. 

Sniffling pitifully, Chloe raised an eyebrow. Her entire world had been ripped a-fucking-part in just a couple of days! She opened her mouth to reply that _everything_ was wrong, dumbass. 

But before she could, Max’s arms slid around her, and she nuzzled into Chloe’s chest. 

“Sorry,” Max mumbled. “ _Hella_ stupid question.” 

A small smile arched across Chloe’s face at that word. 

Rachel’s word. 

Chloe’s cheek fell against Max’s head, and as much as she hated to admit it, it felt nice. Even made her feel a little better. A little less alone, less hopeless. 

Was that okay? 

To not feel how she was, even if just a little less? 

Was that a disservice to Rachel’s memory? 

To everyone’s?

Her eyelids finally fell as she snuggled Max, wondering just how much she could let herself feel.

Chloe’s eyes opened again, and the sun was shining brightly through the windows now, lighting the dim building entirely. 

Looks like she got some sleep after all. 

Max was still curled around her, Chloe’s cheek still against the top of her head. “Sorry,” she muttered as she sat up. Her back was killing her. She could only imagine how Max was aching from staying in that position. 

“It’s okay,” Max squeezed her tightly before letting go. She groaned, “ugh, my neck.” Jerking her head left, then right, a sudden series of crunching sounded in the still air. Max heaved a sigh of relief, “better.”

Chloe watched Max for a moment and smiled. The way the light from the windows wreathed her, and the dust motes swirled around her, she looked ethereal. Those big blue eyes stared back at her, and her freckled cheeks began to redden a bit. “What, Chloe?” 

Looking down at the floor as her heart clenched a little, Chloe muttered, “you’re… like my guardian angel.” 

She could feel Max’s eyes on her. Of course she would remember that Chloe had said almost the same thing of Rachel. A silence stretched between them before Max replied in an even tone. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” 

Chloe met Max’s eye and opened her mouth but no words came out. She closed her lips and her face crumpled. Raising her knees, she crossed her arms and hid her face as tears started to fall again. “I’m sorry, Max,” she gasped. Even Max could tell that Chloe was struggling with this, and somehow that made it worse. 

Arms slid around her waist and pulled her close. She surrendered and let herself fall against her best friend. Chloe whispered, “I really do love you, you know?”

“I know,” Max’s voice sounded sad. “But you love her more.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if it was just a cold immutable fact. It felt like a punch to the gut. “And you need to mourn her.”

True as it might be, might always be, it made Chloe feel like shit. 

“I’m... afraid... Max.” Chloe sobbed into her shoulder. She wasn't able to bring herself to look at her. “I just… everyone has… _always_ … left me. _Even you_.” It sounded more accusatory than she’d meant. 

Max’s fingers tangled in her still-wet hair, lightly rubbing her head. It helped to calm her a bit. Her voice was gentle, like Chloe was baby deer or some shit. “I said I would be here forever, didn’t I?” She gently hugged her with her other arm. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Chloe's voice was hard, as though biting off each word. “Sometimes you don’t get a choice.” A tendril of fear had her heart and refused to let go. 

Neither of her parents hadn’t meant to leave. Neither had Max when her parents moved. And Rachel hadn’t either when she... “How can you be sure?” 

A gentle kiss was laid on Chloe’s cheek, “I suppose I can’t,” Max whispered, “but I will do anything and everything in my power to make sure you are happy and never alone.” She felt Max nuzzle her cheek while her fingers scratched lightly at her scalp. “I told you, you are my number one priority, Chloe.”

She was quiet for a second. “Max…” Would she hate Chloe for asking? Either way, it was something she needed to hear if this was going to happen. “If you mean that… can you promise me that…” she licked her lips, suddenly aware of how badly she needed a drink of water. “Can you promise me that you won’t use your power again?”

“But-” Max sounded afraid and Chloe pulled back to look her in the eye. Her voice was barely a whisper as she asked, “what if we need it?”

She felt selfish even asking. 

Pfft, selfish. Like Chloe was a stranger to _that_. 

She glanced at the floor. “I mean yeah, that’s fine. But, if you think you can fix something... “ She chewed on her lip nervously, not quite believing the words were leaving her mouth. “L-like Rachel?” Chloe shook her head, “don’t. If you fuck up and I lose both of you? I-” 

She wasn’t sure what to say beyond that. Because if Max fucked with time, and died somewhere in the past before she could come back to Chloe? She would never have any idea. Chloe would just be alone in a new reality with no idea that she had ever even loved Max.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Chloe snuggled into the crook of Max’s neck. Her voice was muffled, “ _promise me._ ”

Max was quiet for a moment before she hugged Chloe tightly, “I promise,” she whispered. 

Instinct told Chloe she couldn’t trust her. But she wanted to believe otherwise. She really did. “Thank you.”

The two of them sat there for a while holding one another before Chloe finally pulled away, the image of stoicism once again. She felt like she had finally composed herself enough to face the outside world. 

Or… what was left of it anyway. 

“Well,” Chloe twisted to knock the kinks from her back. “I guess we should get out of here.”

The walk down to the truck was mostly made in silence. Chloe was a little relieved that Max seemed to have as much on her mind as she did. At some point, Max slipped her hand into Chloe’s with a small smile. A gentle squeeze passed between them as they made the rest of the way down the trail. 

Chloe tried not to look at the destruction of the town, because if she did, her thoughts would drift to her mom, and no matter what, she didn’t want to see what became of the Two Whales. 

Miraculously the roads were clear, and Chloe was thankful for that small blessing. 

But scattered throughout the town as they drove through, the dead stood silently, watching them leave. Fishermen whose boats were thrown through rooftops, that trucker that Rachel had asked for a ride once, Warren sitting on his overturned shitheap of a car. She saw Alyssa, and Nathan, and so many other former classmates from Blackwell that it made her want to vomit. 

And there were the faces she had seen thousands of times around town, but had never learned the names of. People she’d ignored, cut off in traffic, glared at for staring at her and Rach, and more. Chloe did her best to focus on the road and drove as fast as was safe through the debris filled streets.

She just wanted out. 

She spared Max a glance as they got toward the edge of town and saw her looking out the window, her head resting against it. For a moment, she wondered if Max could see them too. She looked so defeated and Chloe wanted to say something, anything, but she wasn’t sure what. 

_Sorry you had to let an entire town die to save me?_

_Are you sure this was worth it?_

_Are you having second thoughts?_

Everything sounds so backhanded or self-serving. 

Finally Chloe stopped the truck and placed her hand on Max’s shoulder. When she looked up, Chloe gave her the best reassuring smile she could. She let her hand linger for a second as Max seemed to come back to her a little bit. Chloe’s fingers trailed down her arm as Max sat up and looked out the windshield. 

And then they were off again. 

As they passed the sign marking the edge of town, she saw Rachel standing with Joyce and William. The three silently watched them leave, while her dad threw up a hand to give a small wave as the truck roared by. 

Being outside of town was strange. Just a few miles down the road there was so much destruction. 

But here? 

Everything was peaceful, idyllic. There were no clues whatsoever that hundreds of lives had just been scrubbed from existence.

Feeling herself preparing to spiral as all the dead faces began to weigh on her, Chloe tapped Max’s shoulder. “Hey, Maximus. Grab the tape with the long black cord attached out of the glove box, would you?” She needed music right now. It would help keep her focused. 

“Oh, sure.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Max open it and rummage around for a second before she pulled out the item in question. “Is this it?” She turned it over in her hand, “what is this thing?”

“It goes in the tape deck. The cord plugs into your phone and voila. Tunes.” She shrugged. “It’s cheap shit from last century, but it works.”

While Max inserted the tape, Chloe pulled out her phone and opened her music app. Moments like these ordinarily might have called for blaring speedmetal or some classic hardcore punk rock. But she knew Max wouldn’t appreciate that so much, so she compromised on something with a little more of a pop flare. 

“Blink-182 good with you?” She plugged the cord in as Max handed it off.

Max nodded, “yeah, they’re not bad I guess.” She laughed a little, “thanks. I don’t think I could handle uh… the Ramones right now.”

Chloe snorted, “the _Ramones_? Is _that_ what you think hard punk rock is?”

She could see Max from the corner of her eye as she shot her a confused look. “Aren’t they?”

Shaking her head, she randomized her Blink tracks. “Girlfriend, I’m gonna have to educate you on good punk music some time.” She took her eyes off the road for a second and winked at Max. “The classics! The Misfits, NOFX, Bad Religion, Bikini Kill, the Clash.”

Max only shook her head. “Uh… Bikini Kill?” She giggled, “I have _never_ heard of those bands.”

“Okay, it's decided. We’re moving your education up to today!" Chloe switched the artist, "Bikini Kill is this kickass bunch of chick punk rockers from the nineties. They're hardcore feminists and all about girl power! You'll love 'em." 

Chloe knew she would hate it, but it was a good excuse to listen to something harder for a sec. 

The words of the first song were spoken and opened with;

_This is a song about the seedy underbelly of the carnival  
The part that only the kids know about  
This is a song about 16 year old girls giving carnies head  
For free rides and hits of pot  
I want to go,  
I want to go!  
I want to go!_

Max shot her an upturned eyebrow. 

Chloe laughed as the music hit, "hey they kick ass!"

After a couple of tracks, Chloe was just starting to feel the music, while next to her she could see Max physically cringing. But then, the song ‘Rebel Girl’ came on, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed by a vice. Rachel had played it all the time when Chloe was feeling moody and looking to vent her frustration. She’d called Chloe her rebel girl too many times for her to count.

_That girl thinks she's the queen of the neighborhood  
She's got the hottest trike in town  
That girl, she holds her head up so high  
I think I wanna be her best friend, yeah_

_Rebel girl, rebel girl  
Rebel girl you are the queen of my world  
Rebel girl, rebel girl  
I think I wanna take you home  
I wanna try on your clothes, uh_

_When she talks, I hear the revolution  
In her hips, there's revolution  
When she walks, the revolution's coming  
In her kiss, I taste the revolution_

_Rebel girl, rebel girl  
Rebel girl you are the queen of-_

Chloe paused to switch the artist, ignoring how much the song made her think about Rachel. The last thing she needed to think about while driving was how much she missed- 

"Hey, I actually liked that one," Max pouted. 

"Yeah…" Chloe rubbed the steering wheel with a small wince, "it was… _her_ song for me… you know?"

"Oh…" Max glanced at her as she searched for what to play next. "Do you want me to take that?"

"That's probably a good idea. Fucking twisty coastal highway." Chloe passed her phone off to Max. "Just find something and hit random."

After a minute, ‘American Idiot’ flooded the cab of the truck and Chloe grinned. "The only band you recognized huh?"

Max set the phone down between them. "With names like _Betty Blowtorch_ and _the Circle Jerks_ , _Green Day_ seemed like the only _safe option_!" She sounded horrified. 

It was kind of adorable.

They drove for a while with Green Day playing until ‘What's Her Name’ came on, followed by ‘She's a Rebel’, and ‘Brutal Love’. After having Max skip the song twice she cleared her throat, "I think this is a sign that it's time for a new artist, Maximus."

Chloe smiled as Max picked another 'safe' option, and 'What's My Age Again' began playing. 

But the one thing Chloe hadn't expected was that every vague song about a girl had her thinking more and more about Rachel. And basically everything by Blink-182 was about a girl in one way or another. After gritting her teeth through 'Strings' and 'M+M’s', 'I Miss You' came on, and Chloe waited desperately for Max to change the track.

_I miss you, miss you_

_Hello there  
The angel from my nightmare  
The shadow in the background of the morgue  
The unsuspecting victim  
Of darkness in the valley  
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want  
Where you can always find me  
And we'll have Halloween on Christmas  
And in the night we'll wish this never ends  
We'll wish this never ends_

_I miss you, I miss you  
I miss you I miss you_

"Max?" Chloe tried to control her voice as much as she could, but she couldn't hide the quiver in her jaw. "Come the fuck on, dude." Her voice broke and she could feel the tears start to slide down her cheek.

"Oh fuck, I spaced! I'm sorry, Chloe!" Max frantically changed the song, "oh I really like this one!"

_Hanging out behind the club on the weekend  
Acting stupid, getting drunk with my best friends  
I couldn't wait for the summer and the Warped Tour  
I remember it's the first time that I saw her there_

Of all the fucking songs. Chloe and Rachel had always joked about ‘The Rock Show’ being their song. After the Firewalk show, Chloe hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. And with the way the whole school was gossiping about them? It made it that much harder to forget. 

_She's getting kicked out of school cause she's failing  
I'm kind of nervous cause I think all her friends hate me  
She's the one, she'll always be there  
She took my hand and that made it I swear_

She wanted to tell Max to change the song, but before she could, the memories buried her like an avalanche, and she felt herself get swept away. 

All the things she’d been suppressing since Rachel disappeared, the memories she did her best to tell herself didn’t mean anything came at her, and for the first time, she _wanted_ to remember. Chloe wanted to soak in those memories, to keep them alive in her mind, and cling to them like a desperate survivor clings to a dingy in a storm. 

Because they were all she had left of Rachel now. 

And forgetting her was far worse than anything she could imagine.

The road blurred in front of her as the past came alive in those lyrics.

_Because I fell in love with the girl at the rock show  
She said "what?" and I told her that I didn't know  
She's so cool, I'm gonna sneak in through her window  
Everything's better when she's around  
I can't wait till her parents go out of town  
I fell in love with the girl at the rock show_

The first time Chloe snuck in to see her, they laid in Rachel’s room and she had told her that she had been crushing on Chloe for a while. She had seen her all over school. Everyone else always seemed to trip over Rachel, wanted to hang out with her, and thought of her as this perfect untouchable princess. 

But Chloe didn’t even seem to notice her, and that was notable in itself. 

Sure, Chloe had _known_ of Rachel _Fucking_ Amber. There was no way to get through school without somehow being aware of her. But to Chloe she had always just been another face in an unimportant crowd. She had assumed she was another Vortex Club drone. What was there to know about another rich, stuck-up, bitch?

But according to Rachel? Chloe was the most mysterious person in school, and she desperately wanted to know more.

After spending her life caring so much about everything and pleasing everyone, seeing the way Chloe didn’t give a fuck intrigued her. 

It wasn’t until the anniversary of William’s death that Rachel had anything more than a passing fascination for her though. Rachel had seen her crying, screaming, cursing the world as she left school in the middle of the day. Victoria had talked shit about her being overdramatic and half an orphan. Hearing her be so callous, Rachel really knew that she wanted to be there for her, to comfort Chloe. Whatever pain she had been going through, Rachel hadn’t wanted her to suffer alone. 

But that was just who she was.

Rach didn’t tell her until a lot later, but she had only gone to the Firewalk show to impress Chloe. Getting to distract those goons had felt like a golden opportunity and she had admitted that she felt like a total moron just standing there and shouting at them. What was Rachel going to do? Fight them? She had never done more than squish an ant. Seeing Chloe smack the guy with the bottle at the cost of being punched by the other had made her realize just how fearless she could be. And when Chloe had recognized her there, Rachel had just been thankful it was dark because of how red she got. 

She’d said all she could think about in that moment was getting Chloe away to protect her, and had grabbed her hand to run.

Chloe remembered as they lay on Rachel’s bed, their arms wrapped around one another, her fingers gliding through Chloe’s hair, she said that Chloe was special, and how _hard_ she blushed at that. 

No one had ever said that about her, or made her feel the way Rachel did. And not a fucking soul had ever made Chloe Price blush. They had only been together for a few months then, but it was that moment that Chloe knew she _really_ , with her whole being, loved Rachel. 

Chloe still remembered how embarrassed she had been when, in that moment, the words had just slipped out. The look on Rachel’s face almost made her regret saying them, but then her eyes softened, and she got that small grin that made Chloe’s heart turn to a puddle. She would never forget it when Rachel had told her in a quiet, almost stunned voice, “I love you too, Price.” She could almost feel the hand that had touched her cheek after that, the one that drew her lips to Rachel’s. 

Chloe was sure that she could taste her kiss again if she tried hard enough to remember. 

_When we said we were gonna move to Vegas  
I remember the look her mother gave us  
Seventeen without a purpose or direction  
We don't owe anyone a fucking explanation_

They were never shy about their plans of wanting to escape Arcadia Bay. Of all the things they talked about, where they wanted to go came up more than anything. Every week, their world tour seemed to grow. Rachel had even started teaching Chloe some French and Spanish in preparation, not that she remembered any of it now.

Rose and Joyce both had tried to dissuade them, and David had lectured her about abandoning her mom. James just shook his head at Rachel, having long since given up trying to tell her what she could and couldn’t do with her life.

Getting their first tattoos had been Rachel’s crazy plan. She had saved up money forever from the time she was little and had a couple of thousand saved in an account that she wasn’t able to touch until she turned eighteen. And when she did, she had demanded a small road trip to Portland after school let out. They spent almost a week in the city, staying in a sketchy little rathole of a motel, and they had loved every second of it. 

They had spent a couple of months before the trip drawing out their plans for each other’s tattoos. It was probably one of Chloe’s more sentimental ideas. They had told one another vaguely what they wanted and each of them set about designing for the other. 

After a little searching, they found their artist and spent most of that week in that dingy little shop without air conditioning. Neither of them was even allowed to see the final designs for their tattoos until they were completed. To this day, nothing had ever meant so much to Chloe as the sleeve Rachel had designed for her. 

They both caught shitstorms from their parents when they each came back with so much ink, but neither of them had ever cared. As long as they had one another, their plans for the future weren’t too important. 

They would figure it out as long as they were together.

And they intended to be.

_I fell in love with the girl at the rock show  
She said "what?" and I told her that I didn't know  
She's so cool, I'm gonna sneak in through her window  
Everything's better when she's around  
I can't wait till her parents go out of town  
I fell in love with the girl at the rock show_

The memory of the first time they had sex was still one of her clearest, if only because Rachel was such a shithead.

Rachel had told her to come over to her house in the middle of the night. She had made Chloe climb the gutter on the opposite end of the house and carefully creep across the roof to avoid 'waking her parents'. It took Chloe almost forty minutes to get from the property line to inside the house. And then when she did, Rachel kept obnoxiously making a bunch of noise, and teasing Chloe to within an inch of her life about them being caught. 

She was sure they would be.

Eventually, they ‘snuck’ down to the kitchen for something to eat, and Chloe was rummaging through the fridge when Rachel’s arms slid around her waist. Her heart skipped a beat and she let out a soft gasp as lips trailed from the base of her neck up to her hairline. She tried to say something, but a hand reached up and covered her mouth. Rachel kissed along the edge of her hairline and it was all Chloe could do to groan quietly. 

She remembered her heart racing as Rachel began gently dragging her teeth down Chloe’s earlobe, and the fast pulses her breath came in as Rach’s free hand dragged teasingly along the edge of her jeans. Chloe whined as quietly as she could as her girlfriend’s tongue was dragged from the outer arch of her ear and down her neck before teeth sunk into it’s right side. Her parents forgotten, Chloe’s hand reached back and pushed up through Rachel’s hair and pulled her closer as she leaned into her mouth. 

While she sucked on her neck, Rachel’s hand moved from Chloe’s mouth and trailed down to the hem of her shirt. Her hands worked their way under the fabric and she lightly raked her nails up Chloe’s sides, and a shocked gasp found its way out of her. Rachel’s teeth broke contact with her neck just enough so that she could get a grip on her shirt and pull it up over her head. Chloe’s arms rose almost instinctively to let her remove it. She quickly spun to face Rachel as she tossed the shirt into the living room with a mischievous grin. 

Lust overrode Chloe’s senses, and all that she knew in that moment was that she wanted Rachel Amber more than anything. Chloe’s open mouth found hers and their tongues collided in rough passion as the two kissed desperately. She remembered pushing Rachel up against the island, her arms snaked around her, holding her as close as she could. As she pulled Rachel’s head to the side and her teeth sank into the soft flesh of her neck, Chloe felt her tap her shoulder frantically. 

Brain in a fog, Chloe stepped back and looked at Rachel’s wide eyes, not comprehending. Her finger was jabbing at the ceiling and she whispered, “fuck, I heard someone get up!” 

Chloe jumped in fear. She wasn’t even supposed to be there! And where the _fuck_ was her shirt?! She dove for the floor and shoved her back into the cabinets of the island as Rachel stood casually at the counter, looking like she owned the place. For several heart pounding seconds, Chloe was sure she was going to have to explain her shirtless self. But after almost a minute and not hearing anyone descend the stairs, she risked a peak around the corner. 

A sudden weight settled into her lap and she turned back to see Rachel straddling her, biting her lip and still with that mischievous grin. Chloe’s brain was having trouble catching up as she watched Rachel undo button after button on the blue flannel she wore. As she shrugged the shirt onto the floor behind her, Rachel leaned in to kiss her, her hands tangling in Chloe’s hair and pushed her head back against the cabinets. 

Chloe pulled away just enough to ask in a frantic whisper, “what about your parents?”

Pulling away to examine her with a coy smile, Rachel’s hands untangled from her hair and went behind her back. Chloe glanced down at the bra Rachel wore just in time to watch it fall into her lap. She gulped as she ripped her eyes from Rachel’s breasts, back up to her wicked little grin. 

She would never forget the shit-eating look on her face as Rachel whispered, “I was fucking with you.” She bit Chloe’s bottom lip and quickly released it. Her tongue snaked out and stroked the spot she had bitten. She whispered, “they're gone. The house is ours.” Her hands again tangled in Chloe’s short hair, and she whispered in a husky voice, “and I'm going to fuck you until you scream, Price.” 

Rachel’s teeth sinking into her neck brought her brain back from near shutdown, and she was vaguely aware of her hands gripping the girl’s back for dear life.

They had spent the next two days not wearing much at all after that. 

_Black and white picture of her on my wall  
I waited for her call  
She always kept me waiting  
And if I ever got another chance  
I'd still ask her to dance  
Because she kept me waiting_

A lump formed in her throat, and she recalled the useless ‘Missing’ flyers sitting in her room. 

Or had been before the tornado at least.

The picture she used had been one of her favorites, and captured Rachel so perfectly. Thankfully she had remembered to grab it and a few other important Rachel memories before they had fled for the lighthouse.

The last time she saw her was on April twentieth. She had gotten a text from her on the 21st, but it was weird. Rachel had said something about homework and being sick. 

Of course now Chloe knew it was probably Nathan or Jefferson that messaged her. 

The fuckers. 

But after that, that was it. The last time she had heard from Rachel. Chloe had spent days calling and texting her without response, and she only got more worried when her parents hadn’t heard from her either.

Rachel never answered another phone call or message again. 

It wasn’t unusual for her to disappear for a day or two at a time, so they didn’t think much of it at first, but they finally declared her missing on the twenty-second when she didn’t show up for school. 

Chloe tightened her grip on the wheel as Nathan Prescott’s face came to mind, and she wanted to bash it in. The fucker had taken the most important person to her, tried to do the same to Chloe, and he would never face justice for what he did. 

He deserved worse. 

The piece of shit deserved to suffer for what he did. 

If Chloe could have gone back though, she would do it all again in a heartbeat. Even if she was stuck in the time she spent with Rachel forever, it would be better than the heartache, the not knowing. No part of her had any regrets about being with Rachel. And even with the fucked up things Rachel had done behind her back, it didn’t matter. 

Those three years were some of the most meaningful of her entire life. 

Rachel had saved Chloe from herself, and she would always be grateful to her for giving her back her life. 

If only she could have done the same for her.

_I fell in love with the girl at-_

“ _Chloe_!” Max’s voice was shrill as she screeched her name. 

She swerved, falling back into her lane as the truck narrowly missed plowing head-on into a minivan. Chloe’s hands shook, and the hollow in her chest was overwhelming. She realized she could barely see for all the tears that blurred her vision. 

How long had she been crying?

Chloe smashed the eject button on the tape deck and ripped the black cassette out of the player. She threw it against the floor and she could finally feel the sobs ripping their way out of her chest as she pulled the truck over to the side of the road. Dust flew around them while she pounded on the steering wheel, screaming herself hoarse. 

It all hurt so much. 

Chloe never thought anything could have hurt like this. 

It didn’t take Max long to scoot across the seat. She grabbed Chloe’s hands and stopped her from beating them raw on the wheel. “Shhh, Chloe come here.” She pulled Chloe’s head down to her lap and stroked her hair as her muffled sobs fell into Max’s legs. “I’ve got you Chloe. I’ve got you.” Her voice was soft, and her touch gentle. 

Being held helped to soothe Chloe’s storm of emotion, and when it eventually passed, she lay in Max’s lap, numb. Her fingers running through Chloe’s hair felt nice, made her feel safe. And Max’s arm across her stomach, resting on her hip reminded her she wasn’t alone. She might not have Rachel anymore, but she had Max.

“Sorry,” Chloe muttered, sniffling. “I slimed your lap.”

Max breathed, “it’s okay.” She continued to pet her head, her voice soft, “these jeans weren’t quite dry yet anyway.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. The noise of the truck idling, of the wind, the gulls it carried squawking above, and the ocean waves beating on the rocks below were the only sounds.

Finally Max quietly asked, “do you want to talk about her?”

Chloe sniffled quietly. “I just want to stop feeling this, Max.”

“Chloe…” Max hesitated, and Chloe already knew she didn’t want to hear it. “Sometimes the only way to get through stuff like this _is_ to talk about it.” Max rubbed her scalp with her nails, sending little shivers up and down her spine. She prompted Chloe gently, “tell me about her. Please? The real Rachel, not the Blackwell legend.”

A long sigh fell from her lips and Chloe stayed quiet for almost a minute. Finally she whispered, “we met at a concert at this old mill outside of town. She saved me from getting my ass beat…” She smirked, “still got a black eye when I went for one last swing though.” The smile faded, and she whispered, “god, that night she was dressed like the punk queen of my dreams.” 

Chloe could still remember that night like it was yesterday. She laughed a little, “the look might have suited her later, but then? She was just a scared, chickenshit kid in a costume.” Something resembling a smile settled on her lips, despite how she was hurting. “Rachel had this ability to pull off anything though. I don't know how she did it, but she could go from cute and innocent to death metal in the blink of an eye.”

“A social chameleon, huh?” Max asked. 

“Completely,” Chloe actually smiled. “It irritated the crap out of me when she would drag me to a Vortex Club party. If I didn’t know anyone or was being a wallflower, she would come over, grab my hand, and hang on to me the rest of the night.” Thinking about it, she could almost feel Rachel’s hand in hers again. Tears welled in her eyes, but she did her best to hold them back. 

“She could mingle with anyone and would always leave a group of strangers with a bunch of new friends. Or they thought so at least.” Chloe smiled wistfully, “she never really shared that much with anyone. So many people thought they knew her.” Remembering Rachel, _her_ Rachel that only she ever got to see made her heart swell. “I have no idea why I was so lucky, but I’m one of the only people who ever got to see the real her.” It was strange to think about because of how popular she had been but, “she really didn’t have many friends at all."

The arm snaked around her middle gave a small squeeze, “she was a private person? She sounds like she really cared about you though.”

“Yeah,” Chloe’s voice broke a little. “She was one of the sweetest, kindest people I’ve ever known. She genuinely cared about others without expecting any kind of personal gain. Seeing how good she was, she made me want to care about others too. To just be... _better_.” 

Chloe giggled, “you’d never have guessed because Rachel just projected this _aura_ of confidence, but she was actually _really_ shy. She was self-conscious, nervous, and just the epitome of a drama geek! But at the same time,” Chloe felt a small laugh bubble up out of her from somewhere. “She had _such_ a temper!” 

A couple of tears trailed down her cheeks. These ones felt different though. They didn’t hurt as much, and they were almost happy tears. “I mean this girl who would stop to help an old woman cross the street, also completely lost her head and started a full on forest fire!” Thinking back on it now was funny, but at the time it was pretty scary. 

“She could be irrational, and emotional and fly off the handle if she kept things pent up for too long.” Chloe shook her head, remembering the way her voice sounded, “she would always just say, ‘sorry, I’m a Leo,’ and that would be it.” Another laugh came from somewhere. Chloe never understood astrology shit, and Rachel almost seemed to prefer it that way. “She never felt any regret for stepping on people’s toes if they deserved it, and she was _so_ impulsive!”

Chloe’s face fell a little bit and she got quiet for a second as she remembered something else. “I may think of her as my Angel, but the girl’s halo was held up by horns.” She shifted a little as her arm started falling asleep, “I mean we both know she had her secrets. And she was far from perfect. Rach could be manipulative and spiteful and even downright selfish. Having her pissed off at you usually ended badly.” Chloe grinned, “she was like a feisty squirrel with rabies.”

Max laughed at that one, “did you ever get her vaccinated?”

“Nah, never had the heart to.” Chloe winked up at Max, “besides, I liked her vicious.” She let out a breath and rubbed her face with her hands, catching sight of the blue on her nails as she did. She stopped and stared at them for a few seconds, remembering. “I paint my nails because of her, you know?” 

“Why’s that?” Max looked so supportive and attentive Chloe wasn’t sure how she did it. If their situations were reversed, she wasn’t sure she could have been as easy about this as Max was. Trying to help her… 

What _were_ they anyway? Friends? Girlfriends? Something in between? 

They’d figure it out eventually, she supposed. 

But trying to help her get over Rachel when Chloe so clearly still loved her couldn’t be easy. Chloe was so thankful for Max, now more than ever. 

Still staring at her nails, she smiled fondly. “She always loved to paint her nails. She did it when she was stressed, or bored, or trying to keep herself calm or just because she enjoyed doing it. It just centered her in this weird way.” She had to press down another wave of memories. “But once, she was having a really bad day and had already done all of hers twice. She finally asked if she could paint my toes. I let her because…” she shrugged, “what was I going to do? Say no?” Chloe chuckled, “I insisted on only black though.”

Chloe’s hands fell to her chest and she stared at the roof of the truck, still smiling. “It just became a normal thing after that. She got me to let her paint my fingers before long. At some point she started sneaking glitter polish in, and I actually kind of liked it.” Chloe shrugged, “and from there she just hit every color in the rainbow.” She sighed, happy tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “I still don’t understand why she loved it so much." She sighed heavily, her eyes closing as she lived in the memory. "Honestly though? I was just happy for any excuse to touch her. And she _always_ held my hand. And when she would blow on my fingers to dry it?” 

Chloe giggled, “something about the way her lips puckered. I couldn’t help myself, and I would lean in to kiss her every time.” She smiled, remembering the gentle strokes on her nails, Rachel’s soft hand holding hers. The almost expectant look she got after a while when she waited for Chloe to kiss her, like it was her payment. 

It was a debt Chloe would have been happy to never pay off. 

Max brushed Chloe’s bangs aside and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Why do you always wear the blue? Between your room, the truck, and the junkyard, I must have seen ten bottles of it.”

“It was her favorite on me.” A small contented smile grew on her face, “I kind of liked it, but she always said she loved me all in blue.” Chloe’s smile faded, “and… when she disappeared, I kept painting my nails that same shade.” She scoffed, “like it was my fucking goodluck charm or something.” 

She remembered the first time she tried to do it herself. 

She sucked. 

“She was so good at applying it. She got this intense look when she concentrated on them. She’d narrow her eyes, and chew on her cheek. And her lips…” Chloe glanced at her chipped nails and sighed, “I was _so bad_ when I started doing it. Still am compared to her. I always put it on too thick and it looks chunky and takes for fucking _ever_ to dry. I always have fingerprints on them because I get so impatient waiting for it and,” her voice broke, breath hitching in her throat. “It just makes me miss her that much more.” She sniffled as her eyes started to dribble tears, the blue of her nails blurring just enough until they looked halfway decent. 

Almost like when Rachel did them. 

Almost.

Grabbing Chloe’s hand, Max’s thumb rubbed small circles over her knuckles gently. “Why do you still do it if it makes you so sad?”

A small whine escaped her and Chloe sniffled more, “it hurts more not to. Doing it, a part of her at least is still alive for me.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from crying more. “It feels so fucking pathetic. I miss her so much, and now this is the only link I have to her. But it just makes me feel like she’s there. And I know she would be doing it if she was.” A sad laugh fell out of her mouth and she did her best to stifle a sob. “And besides,” she scoffed as tears began to fall again, “she always loved me in blue.”

Max held Chloe tightly as she began crying again. She couldn't bring herself to talk about Rachel anymore after that. It might have helped, but Chloe just felt raw and exposed after everything she said. She must have spent at least another twenty minutes in Max’s lap while she quietly played with her hair. 

Eventually though, they got back on the road, needing food and wanting to hit Portland before dark. 

As the highway began to turn away from the ocean, Chloe took one last look out over the vast endless blue, and it felt like the closing of a chapter in her life. 

But the ending was wrong. 

As happy as she was to have Max with her, it should have been Rachel in the cab beside her. 

Instead, she caught a glimpse of her ghost, standing on the side of the road with her hand raised at the passing truck.

Chloe gripped the wheel hard, gritting her teeth as the ocean disappeared from view. “Goodbye, Rachel,” she whispered. 

The truck rounded the bend and headed for highway six. But no matter how far away she got, she knew a part of herself would always be buried in that junkyard. 

And Chloe knew she would never get it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's that! 
> 
> I felt more like an appropriate way to leave town to me than just happily fucking off into the sunrise. 
> 
> But what do you think? Too angsty? Not enough? Just right?
> 
> How about the parallel of Rachel's feelings for Chloe with Chloe's feelings for Max? A nice added heart string puller, I thought ;P 
> 
> Oh yeah! Did the songs feel appropriate to you?
> 
> So, our next chapter is going to be a timeskip into Max and Chloe's future together. We're traveling eight years into the future to see what life for our girls has been like. And of course they have their own drama that festers beneath the surface of their domestic bliss D: They couldn't stay on the road forever, after all! 
> 
> I liked the canon LiS2 glimpse we get of them, so that's a thing we're keeping ^.^ Plus it has a purpose o.o 
> 
> For not liking canon, it sure has a lot of relevance in this story :P 
> 
> But let me know your thoughts, and I'll see you next chapter <3


	3. A Five Minute Fuck-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe mourns. Max accidentally takes a trip. Snooping never leads to anything good. And Max finally comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this yesterday ^.^;
> 
> But my knee has been threatening to pop out of place for a couple days, so that been a little distracting.
> 
> But yeah, for this chapter we're eight years in the future, post wandering that we see in LiS 2 and Pricefield has settled down in Seattle. It just felt like it made sense for them to settle down there since it was close to Max's parents and it just feels very much like where they would decide to live as a couple. As opposed to Amberprice, who totally give off LA vibes. But Chloe is adaptable that way, I think ^.^ 
> 
> Speaking of Amberprice... I saw [this](https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/49127686) the other day on tumblr and it just gave me all kinds of feels and I figured if I had to see it, then so did you lol 
> 
> Seriously. 
> 
> Click that link. 
> 
> As badly as I want one of the stickers or something and as many feels as it gives me, I just can't. It's beautiful and it just makes me so sad to see because you know Chloe just spent days getting progressively more and more upset, and how hard the realization must have hit her that Rachel wasn't coming back. It just hurts too much and would depress me to see on a regular basis. 
> 
> But you can bet your sweet ass I have it bookmarked ;P 
> 
> So, I realized there was one thing from LiS2's canon about Pricefield that I hated and completely forgot about because I blocked out the fact that it's even a thing the developers did. And that's Chloe's blacked out tattoo. It just feels totally out of character for her. I mean, this girl kept all of her old mementos of her friendship with Max even though they hadn't seen each other or even spoken in five years. And even in the first game, it didn't exactly have a vibe that she planned on getting rid of those things any time soon. The pictures, the cd, even her snowglobe, all had such strong ties to her past, and it just shows that she is a huge sentimental sap. 
> 
> While they might not have necessarily been out and on display or anything, those things all had their places in her life. Not to mention her photos of William and Rachel! She was ready to fucking cut Max over even touching that picture! That's not a girl who just covers up her past because there's something painful in it. That tattoo, whether directly related to Rachel or not in canon, was a huge piece of her history with her, and there's no way she would have just covered it up like that. 
> 
> I mean I get what the developers were trying to do, I guess. We didn't get much of them in LiS2 and they wanted to show us that she was doing her best to move on from her past and to show us that she was healing and learning to live her life with Max. But... they could have gone about it differently, because that's just not Chloe. 
> 
> Plus, could you imagine having someone do that as roughly across your arm as it was on hers? You could see the way it was haphazardly scribbled out like it was done in a rush of anger or something, and the edges were SUPER sloppy and everywhere! Blackout tattoos would be done with far better attention to it than that. Having a needle dragged wildly through your skin like that would be crazy fucking painful and take MULTIPLE sessions to accomplish. 
> 
> Nothing about that made sense to me, clearly. 
> 
> Speaking of their spot in LiS2 though, I read a really cute slice of life Pricefield fic about one of their trips to see David. It's called [AWAY](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024409) and it's a really good, decent length one-shot that's got all sorts of fluffy gooey Pricefield goodness ^.^ It's really cute and totally worth a read!
> 
> Oh! Just so you're aware, this chapter does have an NSFW portion. It's pretty lewd, but not OVERTLY sexual. Chloe and Max get a bit frisky and it cuts off before the sex really begins. But if you want to skip that, it starts about the point Chloe asks, "did you just compare your asshole to the Sarlacc pit?" and ends at the page break. 
> 
> They have a bit of their conversation through the scene, but I guess it doesn't do anything more than solidify the decision she comes to earlier in the chapter. 
> 
> But anyway! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy ^.^

Eight years later...

Max rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment, taking a deep breath. She was beat. It had been a long twelve hour day between writing her article and the studio. She was ready to just curl up in Chloe's arms on the couch and veg out on their marathon of Ancient Aliens. 

Reaching into the back seat for her messenger and camera bags, she pulled them to the front and took another deep breath. She flipped her hoodie up and looked out at the heavy spring rain drenching their Seattle neighborhood. 

The 20 foot walk to the house from the driveway looked like miles. 

Steeling herself, Max threw open the door of her ten year-old Honda. She jumped out, slammed the door behind her, and took off running up the narrow concrete walkway, screaming a warcry. 

Thick, heavy drops pelted her back as she yelled, and only cut off once she reached the landing. Clearing her throat, Max turned the knob and headed inside. She did her best to look the part of a dignified, employed, twenty-six year-old woman, in a stable relationship with her best friend, who _definitely_ didn’t run screaming through the rain. . 

As she closed the door, Chloe called from another room, “pretty sure the old fucks at the end of the street heard you!”

Kicking her rainboots off on the mat, Max took a right through their open office and into the kitchen where she nabbed a cookie off of the island. She hooked a left and went for the living slash dining room where she found Chloe sitting at the kitchen table with her back to Max. Her wife was watching the rain pour outside the sliding glass door while the backyard steadily became a swamp. 

Chloe was dressed in a loose black band tee and blue pajama pants with a raccoon’s face and the words “I Bite” all over the fabric. Her hair was still short, the same electric blue it’d been since she was nineteen. About the only thing really different between nineteen and twenty-seven year old Chloe was that she had gotten more tattoos. 

That and a little physical maturing. Sure she was still tall and gangly, but she had muscle now that Max loved to tell her was sexy as fuck. And of course, more tattoos. She had two full sleeves now, plus others scattered across her body. 

Her left arm had become a memorial to Arcadia Bay. It was a little ironic, given how ready Chloe had been to drop a bomb on the little town. But something really struck them both about truly never being able to go home again. Chloe has taken it especially hard though. Knowing that Arcadia Bay was sacrificed so that she could live still weighed on her, whether she showed it or not. 

It had taken it’s own toll on Max as well, having been the town’s executioner. 

It was a pain that she pushed down and ignored on a regular basis, lest the faces of all her victims haunt her. But try as she might, the ghosts of Arcadia Bay still did. The town had been dying for so long that she convinced herself it was a mercy killing.

The town dwindled after the storm. It had been failing for years, but a natural disaster was the final straw. While a few scattered people still lived in the town’s skeleton, the state never found funds for more than a cleanup of the debris. The survivors had gotten help from FEMA and most moved to different places. And like that, Arcadia Bay became all but a distant memory. 

Both of them had been hit by survivor’s guilt pretty heavily, and they stayed on the road for a few years if only to keep themselves from thinking about it. But there were some things from that week that neither of them would ever forget. One or the other still woke up in the middle of the night because of nightmares that never quite went away, and the other would always comfort them back to sleep. 

It was amazing what tender words and soft touches could do for post-traumatic stress. 

Sliding her arms down around Chloe’s neck, Max planted a crummy kiss on her cheek, “whatcha working on?” Chloe worked in an auto repair shop most days, and the familiar smell of oil always seems to permeate her no matter how much she washed. 

Max loved it.

In her spare time, Chloe was an artist. She recently finished a small collection and her work was on display in a gallery downtown. It was her first show, and it was even being held in the Chase Space. 

Victoria may have helped to secure the showing though. Not that Max would ever tell Chloe that. 

Chloe’s works were largely reflective of her past experiences, and often took turns into darker imagery with a postmodern flair. Images of death, substance abuse, and hopelessness were done in contradicting bright colors and subjects vaguely recognizable as people. 

Chloe liked to say of her work that the most tortured individuals were reflected as the most basic of shapes resembling human. It was something Max worried that Chloe sympathized with all too well. 

As much as Chloe was working to break into the art world, she had been talking for months about going to school finally and getting her bs in biology. For a moment, Max thought that might have been what the papers strewn about in front of her were. 

But smiling back at her from the table was a seventeen year-old Chloe, her arms wrapped around the ghost that seemed to perpetually haunt their home. 

Max had done her best not to be jealous of the memory of Rachel, mostly because it made her feel like a shit person. But she couldn’t help but feel like she could never measure up to what Chloe had with her. She might never say it, but Max knew she would always be her wife’s second choice. 

It was hard not to be bitter when she never even knew the girl and somehow still felt threatened from beyond the grave. She had never heard a bad word against Rachel, from anyone. Least of all Chloe, who seemed to be in a perpetual state of mourning. She was always aware of Rachel’s flaws, but never saw them as something that defined her. 

“Oh,” was all Max said at first. “I forgot what day it was,” she whispered. 

Chloe scoffed, “yeah. Leave it to Rachel to ruin four-twenty for me forever.” A sad, wistful smile crossed her lips. “I’ve just been moping all day.” She shrugged, gesturing to the sliding door “plus, it’s a perfect day for it.” Chloe’s grin didn’t quite reach her eyes as she tucked one of the photos back into the album that they called home. Her fingernails were still painted the same blue, though her application has gotten significantly better with age. “You know the drill.”

Nuzzling her cheek against Chloe’s, she gave her a small squeeze. “Take all the time you need, Bluebeard.” Every year on April twentieth, Chloe’s life came to a halt. She took the day off, and stayed home with her old photos and videos of Rachel and her together. It was a dark day in their household, punctuated by mourning and takeout food. 

And it never seemed to get easier on Chloe. 

Knowing that she continued to feel so strongly for Rachel, Max couldn’t help but feel bitter. When Rachel had disappeared, Chloe turned Arcadia Bay into one giant missing poster for her. She exhausted every last resource, and just when she had given up, Max had shown up and helped her find closure. 

Or at least that was what she had thought. 

Making her way down the hall, Max hung her bags on the hooks hanging from the back of their bedroom door. She shucked off her jacket and changed into sweatpants and one of Chloe's tees. 

Looking around the bedroom, she settled on her laptop. Max needed something to do to keep her from disturbing Chloe. The April ritual began in secret, something that Chloe hid in shame, when all she wanted was some privacy. The dork actually thought that Max would be mad at her for mourning. 

But two years became five and now was eight with no end in sight. Every year she seemed to hurt just as much as the year before. She was grateful for the time she had gotten with Rachel, sure. But the memory of what she had lost with her only fueled a deep resentment for the time that had been stolen from them. 

Max meant to open Photoshop and edit some of her pictures. She worked as a photojournalist part-time, and the rest of her working life was dedicated to her small photography studio. Being able to bend time around her like she could, Max was always able to get the perfect shot. She was actually considering quitting the journalism gig altogether with how her studio was growing. 

She groaned as she remembered the increasing number of images she’d yet to edit. Her editor wasn't going to be happy if she was late again, and the images from the studio were piling up as well… Just another reason to tell the paper to go fuck themselves, she supposed. 

But instead of opening the program, somehow she found herself scrolling through her pictures folder. 

There wasn't much in there.

Chloe made Max promise a long time ago that she would regularly delete her pictures. It wasn't that she didn't trust Max. She was just afraid. If meddling in time taught Max anything, she knew that the possibilities were limitless for how she could screw things up. 

It didn't help that focusing on a picture ended up being a struggle at times. After traveling through so many in Acadia Bay, looking at one now, it felt like a barrier between Max and the past had been weakened. Focusing on a picture too much she began to feel her grip on the present slip away, the ‘edges’ of reality started to white out, and her body felt like liquid through a colander. 

Despite that, they had a few pictures of them here and there, though. Times and places that were precious memories, too much to simply get rid of. Them together in a hotel room after leaving Arcadia Bay, Chloe’s first commission, their wedding day, buying their house (and victoriously thrusting their home loan in the air), a collage of their anniversaries, and a couple of others. 

They were both afraid that if they got rid of all of their memories, that if something happened, they would lose everything they had of the other. 

But as much as she wanted to be here and now with Chloe, enjoying their lives together, she knew that a part of her best friend would always be stuck in the past. 

Always with a girl who couldn’t be saved. 

No… 

No that wasn’t true. 

Max _could_ save Rachel. She knew that she could. Chloe had just asked her not to try. 

She said she didn’t want to lose Max too. 

But if Chloe was forever going to be stuck in the past with her, didn’t she owe it to her to try? Max knew that she could fix her mistakes, given a long enough timeline. It wasn’t like she had a limited number of tries to get it right. 

Rubbing her eyes, Max set her laptop aside. She had thought about it a lot. 

It wasn’t just April twentieth. It was every day. 

Everyday, Max could see when Chloe wasn’t quite present, when she was reliving a moment in the past. There was a small upturn in her lips, a distant sadness in her eyes that said she was somewhere- some _when_ else. 

Max found herself staring at the picture on her dresser of them buying their home. She didn’t realize she was until she started to feel like she was falling. The world felt like molasses and she tried to grip the bed, but she wasn’t sure she had hands anymore. Max tried to cry out, to call for Chloe, but her jaw wouldn’t work. 

And then everything went white. 

…

* * *

...

The flash was bright in the dim light of their empty living room, and Max stumbled backward, gagging. “Chloe!” Her wife’s name came out a pathetic whimper as her head throbbed. She gritted her teeth as she leaned to grab her knees and catch her breath. 

Strong hands steadied her, and a small whisper made its way to her ear. “Max? Baby, what’s wrong?” 

Looking up at Chloe was surreal. Less tattoos, the scar on her nose from the fry oil was gone, and she was younger. It was only three years, but Max could see it all the same. A telltale trickle from her nose brought a sigh from her wife.

No… her fiance. They wouldn’t get married for another three months. The downpayment for the house was an early wedding present from Max’s parents. 

“Shit, Max. Your nose.” The soft caring tone Chloe used was one she always saved for Max alone. “Oh fuck,” she whispered. “Where did you just come from? Did we fuck up? Was the loan too much? Are we homeless? What happened?”

She waved away Chloe’s questions and stood upright as her head stopped spinning. “We’re fine. It’s-” Max shook her head, nervous to meet past-Chloe’s eye, “everything's fine.”

“Then…?” The concern on Chloe’s face made Max feel awful. She never lied to her about how unstable her power felt at times, and even this version of Chloe seemed to know that it was something to be concerned about. “What happened? When are you from?”

Finally meeting her eye, Max tried to smile reassuringly. She just had to keep this up for a couple of more minutes. She could feel the edge of this moment approaching. “Just three years from now.” She shrugged, “it’s the twentieth. Just giving you space, having my usual dilemma.” Her mouth pulled into a tight line as she admits, “I accidentally spaced out on this picture.”

“Oh Max,” Chloe sighed and wrapped her arms around her. She rested her forehead against her own. “I’m sorry I make it so hard on you.” 

This was already very different from what it was supposed to be. They should have been popping the cork on their bottle of cheap champagne. “Chloe, I can make it different. You know I can. Why won’t you let me try? I know you would rather be with her.” It’s a conversation they probably had a thousand times. “I just want you to be happy,” her voice hitched as she tried to hold back tears. 

Chloe’s arms wrapped tighter around her, “I _am_ happy, Max. I’m sorry if I made you think I’m not.” With a sigh, she wiped the traitorous tears from Max’s cheeks, “Please stay with me. I’ll make it better I promise. I’ll stop my moping. It’ll be different from now on.”

Max wanted it so badly to be the truth, to believe that Chloe really was happy with her. But there was seven years of evidence to the contrary to prove her wrong. “I just want it to be right…” The edge was approaching, and she could feel herself beginning to slip back into the present.

“Shh…” She felt Chloe’s lips press against the top of her head, “everything _is_ right as long as I’m with you.”

The world went white as she felt like bath water sliding down a drain.

…

* * *

…

Max snapped herself out of it with a sharp shake of her head and closed her eyes. She felt herself coughing hard, her lungs feeling seared. Taking a deep breath, Max counted to ten. When she opened her eyes, the world was barely vibrating. 

A masculine voice boomed from across the room, “damn, Max! That was a fat rip!” It took her a second to recognize Mikey's voice.

The smell of smoke stung her nostrils and mixed with the heady aroma of, as Chloe would put it, dank bud. She opened her eyes, aware of how heavy her body felt. Max realized something cold, glass, and heavy was in her right hand. 

“Whoa," she recognized Steph's voice near where Mikey was, “I’ve never seen a fat hit do _that_! Is she okay?”

“Uh- yeah.” A familiar hand reached under her armpit to help her stand, while the other took the translucent purple bong from her hand. “It happens. I’ll just help her cleanup real quick.” Max watched Chloe pass the bong off to Drew. “Here, it’s your hit." She pointed a threatening finger at the DM screen on the table. “Steph, don’t you dare roll for initiative until we get back.”

Chloe’s other hand helped Max to steady as she stood. Her head felt fuzzy, and her movements were muffled, as if fog had weight. She had never gotten high. Max had no problem with Chloe smoking, but she had just never been interested. At least, she didn’t think she had. What had she changed? “Chloe?”

“I gotcha, Baby,” she whispered. Chloe flicked on the bathroom light. 

Max leaned against the counter and turned on the faucet. While Chloe grabbed a washcloth from the shelving behind them, Max caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was cut short, swept to one side, shaved on the other, and a striking deep purple. She had a photography themed tattoo sleeve up her left arm with film rolls, old school cameras, undeveloped polaroids, and multicolored sparks throughout. She was wearing sweatpants and a crop top with a raven’s wings spread wide across the narrow fabric. Most confusing of all, her _makeup_ was done. She had dark eyeshadow, black lipstick, contour, blush, expertly winged eyeliner, the works. 

Then she noticed her body was filled out, muscular, and toned. And she was… thicc? 

This Max must have worked out. 

“What the fuck?” Her high brain tried to process what she was seeing, but she came up blank. Part of that might have been due to the fact that she looked _damn good_. She couldn't help but check herself out. In a million years, Max would never have thought she could pull this look off. How had she changed so much with just five minutes in the past?

“Here, Max.” Chloe ran the washcloth under the stream of water before she shut it off. She dabbed carefully at the blood that ran freely from her nose. “So what happened? Did you roll a one and kill your character?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, Chloe.” She bit her lip and remembered too late she was going to smudge her lipstick. “I was… it was- _is_ April twentieth, right?”

“You know it!” She chuckled, “happy holidays, Sistah.” Chloe dabbed the blood more before she ripped off a bit of toilet paper and rolled it. She handed it off to Max. “Are you okay?”

Max put the small wad up her nostril and had to laugh. She'd never heard Chloe so excited about four-twenty before. “I-” she looked at Chloe who looked exactly like she had when Max got home from work, right down to the tee and pajama pants she wore. “I just don’t know what happened.” She shrugged, “I had just gotten home from work, and you were having your day with Rachel memories.” She licked her lips, nervous to go on. “And so I went to the bedroom and was thinking about helping get her back like I always do on that day, and I-”

“And you spaced out on that picture of us in the living room,” Chloe interrupted. A sad look crossed her face, “I almost forgot about that,” she finished quietly. She placed the rag on the counter and crossed her arms. “Are you okay?” Chloe asked again. 

“I… think so.” Max took another look at herself in the mirror. “I look hella different from how I did… before that trip. What changed?” 

“You tell me, Super Max.” Her wife leaned against the shelving.

“Why aren’t you spending your day…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She wasn’t sure there was a good way _to_ finish it. “We never have friends over or do… _anything_ on this day.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Chloe looked to the ceiling with a sigh. “After that moment, I did my best to get over Rachel. After I told you what happened, you insisted that we talk about her whenever I was feeling that way. But, what you said, how you felt- _feel_. I couldn’t keep doing that to you. I couldn’t keep hurting you and making you feel like second best.” 

She bit the inside of her cheek as she met Max’s eye, “We talked about her a bit after that and… I think you might have taken a little bit of Rachel to heart. I don’t know if you were insecure, or you felt like you had something to prove. But you started dressing differently, working out, getting stoned, even got tattoos.” A familiar sadness flitted across her face and for just a second, her eyes had that far away glint. “I suppose I never said anything because…”

“Because I started looking like her,” Max finished. 

A guilty smile plays on Chloe’s lips, “sometimes I almost catch myself calling you Rachel. For just a second, I’ll think she’s still here and… And I’m not disappointed that it’s you!” She shook her head. “Not at all. It just trips my brain up.” The tips of her fingers poked out from behind her arm, and even in the shadow, Max could still make out the same blue nail polish. 

Max sighed, “where’s the picture?” She was going to go back and change this. She never intended for Chloe to know how she felt. It didn’t make anything better. And both of them were only showing their insecurity with Rachel’s place in their lives in a different way. 

And that polish spoke volumes enough on it’s own.

“I ripped it up that night.” Chloe shrugged. “We don’t have many pictures anymore. If it’s that easy for you to slip in and out of time like that, I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Chloe, _I need to go back_.” Max rips the bloody paper from her nose and tossed it in the trash. “We can’t live with her ghost. I need to get her back for you. I-”

“Max, **stop**!” The firm tone in Chloe’s voice made Max stop and go a little weak in the knees. She was such a fucking bottom. “We’re not having this conversation. Not now,” she jerks her thumb toward the door, “we’ve got friends out there now. Can we do this after they leave? Please?” She phrased it as a question to be nice, but she and Max both know Chloe wasn’t asking. 

Max bit her lip, crossed her arms behind her back, and nodded. She couldn't help but look her wife up and down once before her eyes found Chloe’s again. Even in a baggy t-shirt and pajama pants, Chloe was a fucking goddess. And her wife taking that commanding tone had always been a bit of a turn on for her, even in the most inappropriate situations for it. 

Chloe rolled her eyes with a grin. She dropped her hands to Max’s waist and dragged her fingers around to the small of her back. She whispered, “and after we talk about it, I’ll hold you down and fuck the life out of you. Sound good?” She kissed her, her tongue finding Max’s with practiced ease. Her hands dipped beneath the band of her sweats and Chloe gave her ass a firm squeeze. 

The first thing Max noticed was that there was more ass back there than she was used to having. And the second was that she was _definitely_ wearing a thong. 

Why, she has no idea. She’d always hated them, and now she was going to be acutely aware of the...

Was that _lace_? 

It was going to be hard ignoring the fact that there was a strand of fucking lace up her ass all night. Ugh, this version of herself was such a _girl_! Chloe couldn’t rip it off of her soon enough. 

“Yeah,” Max said in a small voice, a breathy excitement to her words, “sounds great.”

Chloe rolled her eyes as she grabbed her hand and led her back to the living room. She had a small grin as she muttered, “fucking sub.” 

The night passed quickly enough. Max had fun playing their campaign. Even before she fell through the photo, she and Chloe played games and saw Steph, Drew, and Mikey all the time. She wasn’t necessarily unhappy to see them on this day for once, she just needed to sort this out with Chloe.

Eventually though, Steph, Drew, and Mikey called it a night and packed up. They helped them clean up and all the while Max couldn’t wait for them to get the fuck out so that she and Chloe could talk and fuck. 

As the door finally closed behind them though, Max realized the talking didn't matter. Chloe would always insist that she was happy and would stick to the obligation of making Max come first. 

But for her, Chloe came first, and she had let her put Max first for too many years.

Besides, a couple of good orgasms and Chloe always passed right out anyway. Then she could search for a photo to work from. They _had_

Chloe turned with a look like she was bracing herself for something. “Max, look-”

Max launched herself into Chloe's arms, and she caught her easily, like she always did. Max wrapped her legs around Chloe’s waist as her wife’s hands reached to support her butt. Max’s arms draped loosely around her neck as their lips came together. She could feel Chloe trying to pull away, and she didn't want to let her. Finally, Chloe carried her toward the bedroom.

Max was going to make sure to remember every detail of Chloe, just in case she never got another chance. And she didn't intend to be able to. She wanted to remember everything about her wife while she was still her’s. 

The way she smelled, felt, and tasted. The smooth skin of her stomach, her hips, and her legs. The firm muscle in her arms, legs, her toned back, and her strong legs. The way her hands were just a little rough from always forgetting to moisturize. And of course, the cute little mole that Chloe hated just to the left of her clit. 

Max wanted to remember it all. If nothing else, her life with Chloe would always live in her memories. 

Chloe sat down on the bed and Max straddled her as she did. She broke the kiss to pull off her top, and Chloe took the chance to finally speak. 

"Max, I don't want you to-"

Max put her finger to Chloe's lips, "shhhh."

She shook her head, "no, Max I'm-"

Max's gaze turned stern, "Chloe Caulfield-Price, shut the fuck up, and fuck me."

"Baby, I don't-" she hissed as Max nipped at her jaw. "Fuck," she whispered. "Max, if you do this, what happens to you?"

Max licked her neck with a gentle growl, "Chloe, quit putting me first, and think about yourself for once." 

Chloe moaned lightly, "I know I can't stop you, but _please_ ," she ran her nails down Max's back, watching her arch into them with a satisfied groan, "I'm _begging_ you not to."

Max nibbled on Chloe's earlobe and whispered, "Chloe, the version of myself that I woke up as this evening has a thong wedged so deep in her ass, that I'm learning a new definition for the words pain and suffering." A breathy moan escaped her as Chloe bit at her neck.

Releasing her neck for a moment, she snickered back, "did you just compare your asshole to the Sarlacc Pit?" 

"Chloe," Max growled through clenched teeth. "You fucking nerd, if you don't get your teeth down there and rip it the fuck off of me in the next five minutes, it's going to be a permanent addition to my body."

Chloe purred against her neck, as her hands sank down to grip her ass. "Aww," she whined, "but I _love_ the way your ass looks in a thong."

Max groaned, only partially in annoyance as Chloe left a trail of kisses down her chest and across her breasts, "Chloe," she begged. " _Please_?"

"You have to promise me," She mumbled as her tongue circled her nipple, "not to rewind."

Max whined as much in pleasure as frustration. She didn’t want to lie to Chloe, especially not about this. But then, it was a promise she had broken in hundreds of small ways for years. What was one more time? 

Chloe’s voice was husky, but there was a desperation beneath it that broke Max’s heart. “ _Promise me_.” She felt Chloe’s hands grab the hem of her sweatpants and tug them down. Teeth raked irritatingly slow against her nipple as Max raised herself just enough so that Chloe could slip them down to her thighs.

“Chloe, I-” Max moaned breathlessly as Chloe took her nipple between her teeth and caressed it with her tongue. She remembered holding Chloe the day after the storm. She had asked Max almost exactly the same thing. Her own voice echoed her memory as she heard herself gasp, “I promise.” She had to remind herself that she was doing what was best for her wife. “I’ll never leave you.”

Chloe looked at her with so much love in her eyes, Max had to bite back tears. “Good.” She kissed her and their tongues found one another greedily as their hands explored each other. When the kiss broke, she grinned and moved Max’s hair aside to nibble at her earlobe. She purred, “now let's get you naked.”

Guilt tugged at her as she breathed a sigh of relief, “oh my god, _finally!_ ” Max grabbed the edge of Chloe’s shirt and tugged it up insistently until her wife raised her arms and allowed her to pull it off. Then she kissed her, slower, each kiss deep and hungry. 

The feel of her lips on Max’s, the natural way their lips and tongues moved together from so much practice was something she would always remember. She cherished every one for fear it would be the last.

Chloe stood and broke the kiss all too soon as she turned. She laid Max on the bed, and pulled the sweatpants from her legs agonizingly slowly. Dropping them to the floor, she kissed the top of Max’s foot and her lips steadily made their way up her leg, depositing gentle kiss after gentle kiss against the inside of her calves and thighs.

Max watched her make her way up, her breathing becoming heavier the closer she got. Halfway up her wife’s thigh, Chloe’s fingers trailed up to the waistband of her thong, and Max swatted her hands away. 

When Chloe looked up in confusion, Max waggled a finger back and forth with a small smirk. Her voice was husky and insistent as she whispered, “I said. _Teeth_.”

She was proud of the way Chloe gaped at her for a second, the excited glint in her eye as she licked her lips. “You’re awfully demanding.” She sounded intrigued as her fingertips trail up Max’s legs. “I like it,” Chloe whispered. Her breath caught as Chloe leaned over her, kissing her hips. “But your wish is my command.” Chloe looked up Max’s body to find her eyes, and anticipation built in her chest as she felt her wife’s strong hands grip her hips and flip her onto her stomach without effort. 

Feeling Chloe’s strength like that always made her weak.

She rewound three times to relive that moment, determined to make sure it was seared into her memory. 

Max let out a small squeak as her limbs splayed bonelessly across the bed. She could feel Chloe’s presence behind her, and goosebumps rose on her arms and legs as she felt her wife’s hot breath on her ear. Chloe nipped at her earlobe again, and trailed her tongue up the outer edge of her ear. “On all fours,” she whispered. 

Wordlessly, Max raised herself up on her elbows and knees. For several seconds, she stared at the opposite wall, waiting. When Chloe’s hand grabbed her ass, she exhaled a small excited breath. She chewed on her bottom lip as she felt her wife’s hands caress her ass and draw the outline of the thong that she so desperately wanted off. When she continues for almost a minute, Max turned to look at Chloe, pouting. She whined as she found her eyes fixed on her ass. 

“See something you like?” 

“Mhmm,” Chloe grinned. “Just appreciating you.” She lightly dragged her nails down Max’s ass, and grinned at the small gasp it earned her. “Especially since this seems to be the last time I get to appreciate it.” A sad sardonic look passed over her face before she grinned. “Just committing this to memory. Now,” she pointed toward the wall Max was supposed to be facing, and her tone took an authoritative edge that only served to increase Max’s desire, “be a good girl.”

“Yes ma’am,” she breathed. Max chewed on her cheek as she turned to face the wall again. She had never been sure why, but just being commanded in bed was always the biggest turn-on for her. And Chloe _loved_ to please. She might never have said so, but Max was pretty sure that she got off on her role as well.

For a brief second, Chloe didn’t touch her at all and Max was about to turn when she felt nails dig into her shoulder blades. Her hiss became a groan as they trail down her back. Chloe kissed the skin just above the thong’s band before her teeth grabbed the fragile lace and tugged it down.

As the material was peeled from her body, Max’s moan of pleasure mingled with a sigh of relief. She was just thankful it was finally off! 

A small squeak escaped her lips as she felt Chloe’s hands pull the thong from where it was tangled in her feet while her tongue traced the joint of her hips. 

Chloe steadily made her way toward Max’s inner thigh, and her eyelids fluttered closed as her wife got close. She held desperately to every moment, and did her best to commit it all to memory. She meant to make the most of what would be her last night with Chloe.

If she wasn’t tingling from head to toe, she probably would have cried. 

...

* * *

...

Extricating herself from a sleeping Chloe was always a tricky venture, but fortunately time was on Max’s side. Getting up in the middle of the night without waking Chloe for water and bathroom visits necessitated her using her powers so as not to wake the sleepy lump she'd married. In that way, and a few others she'd never admitted to, Max still managed to find moments now and again to practice using her power and keep herself sharp. 

It didn't technically count as breaking her original promise if she just needed water and wasn’t messing with time, right?

As she slid off the side of the bed, she began rewinding, holding her power until Chloe was in the position she was spooning Max in. She halted her power and concentrated hard, just long enough to freeze time and slipped her body pillow into Chloe’s grasp. 

Freezing time was still hard, and it stretched her senses to their breaking point, but she was getting better at it all the time. Instead of inducing hours long migraines, she was down to a slight twinge in her temple as she did it. 

Yay, progress.

Max released her hold on time with a heavy breath and watched guiltily as her wife settled into the pillow. She looks at Chloe for a long moment with a painful twinge that, for once, wasn’t related to time travel. She was so beautiful, sleeping peacefully. 

With a shake of her head, Max turned and left the bedroom, forgoing getting dressed. Heading down the hall, she made for the locked desk drawer in their office. Chloe was a terrible sneak, despite the little criminal she'd been as a teenager. If there was one place she would hide pictures that she didn’t want Max to be tempted to use, it would be in her collection of Rachel mementos. 

As much as Chloe tried to assure her earlier that she was over Rachel, Max knew that she wouldn’t have thrown out those items. They were too precious to her, and they were all she had left of her life with Rachel. And no matter how much she tried to smooth things over for Max’s comfort, she knew they always would be. 

After all, Chloe still wore the same nail polish, and Max knew what that meant to her. If she still did that, then she must have gone back to mourning Rachel in secret. 

The thought that she would be hiding her pain from Max instead of sharing it with her hurt. Max never wanted Chloe to feel like she needed to hide anything from her, no matter how painful. And the fact that her best friend and partner of eight years has committed herself to a life of silent misery for the sake of Max? 

She took a deep breath, wiping a tear from her cheek as she felt under the bookshelf’s overhang for the hidden alcove where the key was located. She’d seen Chloe playing with the third shelf down several times, but never actually tried to find the- There it was! Her hand passed over cold metal secured by a magnet to the backside of the shelf’s lip. 

Max stared at the key in her palm for a second. 

Was she really doing this? 

She could still turn back. She could turn around, go back to bed, and pretend to live in ignorance to her wife’s pain. She could still have mindblowing sex with the woman she loved, they could be a family, and she could do her best to make Chloe happy. 

Max just needed to put the key back. 

Easy.

Right?

She closed her eyes, steeling herself with a small shake of her head. 

No.

Chloe deserved more than a life of quiet misery. Even if she saved her, and Rachel ultimately broke her heart, Max promised that she would never leave Chloe. She would be there to pick up the pieces if it all went wrong. And maybe someday, she would admit the full truth to her. But for now, she owed it to Chloe to try. 

She recalled the few words from the Bible either of them had ever believed, much less allowed spoken at their wedding.

_Love is patient, love is kind.  
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no account of wrongs.  
Love takes no pleasure in evil, but rejoices in the truth.  
It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things._

_Love never fails._

Mentally reciting the passage always brought her a manner of inner peace when things got hard between them. 

Max let out a deep breath, opened her eyes, and turned to the desk. She kneeled by the drawer and inserted the key while she quietly whispered to herself, “And now these three remain,” she turned the key. “Faith, hope, and love.” Her vision became a little blurry as she opened the drawer. On top was the album she knew would be there, it’s cover faded and worn with use. “But the greatest of these is love,” she breathed.

She grabbed the album and pulled it out of the drawer. As she lifted it, several dozen sheets of paper slid out of the flimsy inner pocket and spilled into the drawer. 

What? 

These… were new. 

Max placed the album on the desk and with a shaky hand she picked up the top-most sheet. It was dated yesterday in the top right corner in Chloe’s chicken scratch writing. Rachel’s name was on the top left line, and Max realized she was holding a letter Chloe had written to her. 

She glanced back in the drawer and she choked back a sob as she stared at the large stack of papers. Her heart broke as she sorted through to the very first letter. 

It was dated the day they bought their house. 

The day she had gone back to. 

All she saw were a few words from the beginning, but they felt like a knife in her heart. 

_Rachel,_

_Max just went to bed. I don’t know how to do this, but I need to get  
over you. Everyday, I miss you, and everyday I hurt Max by doing it.  
I never realized how she felt, but she accidentally jumped back three years  
because she’s considering trying to bring you back. She’s sure she’s  
not enough for me, and I need-_

Chloe had been writing Rachel for _three_ years? Max squeezed her eyes shut against the torrent of tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, quashing her emotions. She opened her eyes and glanced at the one dated yesterday, praying Chloe was telling her the truth. 

_Rachel,_

_Somehow, tomorrow is eight years without you. Eight years you’ve  
been dead, and eight years I’ve felt incomplete. I’ve tried so hard to  
kill my feelings, but they just don’t go away. Try as I might, I can’t  
hate you for what you did to us. I think on it some days and wonder  
if you ever really loved me at all. There are times where I do my best  
to be angry with you for it, but I ~~know~~ knew you, and I know you  
must have been scared. _

_I get it._

_I was a lot. I came on strong, and we were only nineteen. My life had  
aged me prematurely, and I was looking for my wife when you were  
figuring yourself out. _

_It took me a while, but I realized I forgave you a long time ago._

_Some days I think I’m healing, and I’m finally getting past you.  
But then I’ll notice that my nails are chipped and I just **have** to  
fix them, because letting them stay that way feels like a disgrace to  
your memory. You were always so well put together, and I’m such a  
grease monkey now. _

_But the least I can do is maintain my nails for you, right?_

_Wait… is grease monkey a racist term from forever ago? Kinda  
sounds like it would be… Hold on I need to google it now._

_Good news! It’s not racist! It just refers to child labor in the twenties!  
So… better than expected. But not **much** better :P_

Max stared at the little handwritten emoji in disbelief. Chloe _hated_ emojis, even now. Whoever this was who wrote these letters, it was a Chloe she was only vaguely familiar with. She couldn’t help but wonder what Rachel’s Chloe was like, and if she had been happier. She glanced back at the letter and read on. 

_You know, at twenty-seven, it’s starting to feel  
creepy that I can’t get over my feelings for my dead eighteen  
year-old girlfriend. I don’t feel that old most days though, but I guess  
that’s what happens when you’re stuck in the past. Physically I’m  
getting uncomfortably close to thirty, but in my heart? I’m still eighteen,  
passing you a joint, and watching the sun sparkle in your eyes. _

_I feel like such a colossal bitch for it, for feeling this way about you when  
Max is right here with me. I know she sees it, she’s not stupid. But it  
fucking kills me that I can’t let myself feel for her what I do for you. No  
matter how much I try, this fear won’t let me feel for her like I should. _

_And I hate it._

_She deserves so much more, and I’m trying my best to give her that.  
But it’s hard, and I can’t shake the fear that when I do,something will  
happen that will take her from me. _

_I can’t go through that kind of loss. Not again. Dad, you, Mom, all of  
fucking Shithole Bay? I feel so broken, knowing that I’m still here when  
all of you aren’t. It’s not fair. If I lost Max… she’s all I have left. _

_As much as I don’t want to, I’m going to live. And I’m going to cherish  
her and take care of her in the best way I can. I hope I can give myself  
to her completely in the way she deserves someday. But for now, it’s  
a shadow of what I know I’m capable of. _

_Side Note; Did you know self-harm is still a relevant option at almost thirty?  
I didn’t! But what else is a worthless, emotionally unavailable, shit to do?  
Thank god I work in an auto shop or, “I accidentally smashed my finger with  
a wrench,” and, “that car had a jagged edge on it,” wouldn’t be such an easy  
write-off._

_God, maybe I really am still eighteen._

_I’m such an angsty little fuck._

_Anyway._

_I’ll be thinking about you tomorrow._

_Just like every day._

_Day 2920 (yes, I googled it) without you, and I’m still surviving._

_Fuck you._

_I hate you._

_I miss you._

_I love you._

_< 3_

_-A Grease Monkey : )_

Max lay curled up on the floor long after finishing the letter. She held it smashed to her chest while she sobbed soundlessly for fear of waking Chloe. She had always known that she was second in Chloe’s heart, but reading it hurt worse than she could imagine. The letter ripped out her heart, paragraph after paragraph. Not only had she not gotten over Rachel, but at this point it looked as though she might never. And that she has been intentionally hurting herself at the shop instead of talking to Max about how she felt only hurt more. 

Max felt so selfish. Accidentally going back for five minutes has separated her wife from her by a massive gap that she couldn’t even begin to know how to cross. Chloe isolated herself with this pain, and this dumbass version of Max just _let_ her? 

If she wasn’t certain before, she knew that she had only one option now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! 
> 
> What do you think? Too angsty? 
> 
> I know they're older, but I just can't imagine that would be a pain for Chloe that would ever quite heal. 
> 
> Plus, it has quite a bit of plot significance that we'll get to eventually, not to mention _immediately_ lol 
> 
> Does it seem like a believable future for them though? For all of her attitude, I can see Chloe being totally comfortable and happily at ease in a domestic setting with Max. Then again, if she was with someone she loved, she'd probably be happy in a dumpster xD
> 
> How did you feel about them both working against one another to protect the other one? It just seemed very much like something they would do to me. Both of them struggling to keep the other one safe despite the other one doing the opposite thing to keep them safe? Pricefield all the way, baby. Roundabout dumbasses lol But I mean, they would no doubt die for each other :P 
> 
> Chloe's letters to Rachel made me really sad to write and then going back over them when I was editing made me even more sad all over again because I had forgotten about that part lol the nail polish of course made a comeback, and hopefully Max wasn't overly annoying in her attempts at being self-sacrificing. 
> 
> Next chapter is going to consist of a trip through the past, and we're going to get a look at Max and Chloe's lives together in reverse as she tries to find the moment where she can fix things. 
> 
> Until then, have a good week ^.^


	4. Time Tripping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max falls through the past, desperate to make things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally back! 
> 
> Sorry I didn't post another chapter sooner. I honestly spaced doing anything with this story. 
> 
> Between Zoom meetings for getting back to work, having killer migraines through allergy season, and trying to make time to work on my ML fic, I just forgot to get back to this one ^.^;
> 
> Which is REALLY dumb because I had this chapter written, I just needed to edit it. I mean I edited it plenty of times before, but it just needed one last polish. 
> 
> Also... Everything I have for this project that isn't posted is currently in present tense because I, at one point in my ridiculous number of re-edits I've done on this thing, thought it would sound good in present tense. 
> 
> It didn't lmao
> 
> So, yeah if you have found or so find any present tense usage that I missed between chapter 1 and... I think 7 is the one I have disconnected bits out to so far? Those were left over from an experiment I absolutely loathed lol 
> 
> Anyway! Max is back and preparing to find a point in the past where she can make things, in her mind at least, right. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one ^.^ it's the first chapter that doesn't have a major time skip in it!
> 
> Well... Sort of ;P

Max took her time carefully picking through the drawer. Even if this place would only be a memory, she didn’t want to disrespect what Chloe had here. After the letters, she stopped snooping, convincing herself that she would only find pain. Finally, buried at the bottom of the drawer, she found what she was looking for. 

Earlier that evening, after she woke up coughing on pot smoke, she’d realized that the small assortment of personal photos she and Chloe had up were no longer there. The house was sterilized of the sparse photographic proof of their lives that had been present before her jump.

Had Chloe meant to hide the evidence of their lives beneath the one she wished she were living? 

Or was Max reading too much into Chloe’s attempt at keeping her in the present?

Either way, there were too many questions stacked in one little unassuming drawer. 

Max spent a while looking longingly at the collage of their anniversary pictures, and she kept having to close her eyes to resist the temptation of falling into them. As much as she might want to slowly make her way through her memories with Chloe to go back, she knew that her resolve would weaken if she did. 

And she couldn’t just live in the past like that. 

There were things she needed to do. 

The pictures from before their marriage were the ones she was looking for, but it was clear that Chloe has gone through and disposed of most of the pictures that weren’t essential memories of the last three years. But, the ones from before, the one’s Max wanted the most, were nonexistent. 

Before they bought the house, there was a wealth of photos that she could have used to travel back through. The trick was in finding the one that would make all the others easily accessible. 

It had been a dangerous idea at the time, knowing the ripple effects it could cause, but Max had experimented with her ability to travel through photos for a time. She’d found that the ‘edges’, as she’d come to think of them, of her boundary during those trips were only a perceived limitation. Given enough practice, she’d found she could move beyond them if she focused on the moment enough, put enough clarity into that time, and remembered clearly enough. 

She’d taken memory retention classes, learned to meditate and focus on the mundane tiny details of every moment. The ones that made them feel alive and real. 

It had taken her a couple of years to perfect the technique, but once she had, Max had found the past could be accessed as clearly as the present if only she remembered well enough. Granted, there was still only so much that she could manage. For all her effort to free herself from the limitations of her mind, the past it seemed, did not want her to linger. 

The time limits varied. Sometimes it was a few minutes, others it was several hours, but if she focused during a photo trip, she would be able to feel the ‘edges’ approaching. Once they arrived, they closed around her like walls and booted her from the past back into her present like a forum mod with an exceptionally strong banhammer. 

Max had gotten good at estimating how far out they were though, and she had even found a way to thwart them. Despite her efforts to get rid of them as she had the barriers, she’d never had any luck, and they seemed to be entities unto themselves, though she’d never been able to confirm it. But the one workaround she had found was to find another photo and use it to travel deeper into the past. 

Max’s trips into the past never lasted too long, thanks to the ‘edges’. But she knew that if she was careful, and chose especially clear moments, she could avoid them long enough to dive as deeply into the past as she needed. Of course, she would have to have to be quick, and second guessing herself was not an option. 

Or else she might fuck up and change things more and wind up in an even more difficult situation to escape, ala the Butterfly Effect. 

But there was one photo that she knew of that could get her to the moment she needed. Her first selfie with her polaroid, from before she had been accepted to Blackwell. 

It had been a stupid half-birthday present from her parents to support her growing photography habit, and she’d commemorated it with one of her classic teenage selfies. Max’s half-birthday was in March, and in March of twenty-thirteen, Rachel had still been alive. 

Max wouldn’t be able to change more than her death, but if she acted quickly enough, she could do it. A couple of facebook messages, a change of plan with her parents, and it could all be different. 

Chloe could have the life she wanted, with the woman she wanted it with. And Max would be… 

Shaking her head, she pushed the thought from her mind. Chloe was such a large figure in her life, it was impossible to imagine what it could be like without her, or even where she would be. Max had been drifting for a while before she and Chloe reunited, and even though she knew she wanted to do _something_ with photography, she had no idea what it was. Having already lived half of her twenties though, she was confident she could course correct if the new Max she became seemed lost. 

But, wherever she ended up, Chloe would be happy, and that was what mattered. Max just needed to find the right photo to get her started on that path. 

It took a bit of searching, but finally, she found it. It was a shot of Chloe’s first art commission. A statue of a woman dancing, her body riddled with holes. The metal woman stood in a perfect point, her other leg extended behind her and her back level with her leg. Her body contorted and twisted, and she seemed to be melting into a puddle as she danced. Chloe had called her, ‘Forced Passion.’ 

In the photo, Chloe stood next to the piece, a blowtorch still on from melting the final holes through her torso. She looked so proud of herself, her face smudged with soot, and her overalls that hung too-large on her wiry frame. That photo always made Max happy, because it was one of the few times in eight years where she could see Chloe happy and fully in the present moment. 

It was a nearly crystal clear memory. 

It also had the added bonus of having the next picture she needed just barely visible in the background. 

Once she’d returned Chloe’s belongings to their correct order, Max made her way back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, the photo clutched in her hand. Max looked at her wife, trying to take in every last-second detail that she could. 

The gentle way Chloe’s chest rose and fell as she breathed, the soft, vulnerable expression her face settled into when she slept. Max took in the way her brow twitched as her wife dreamed, and she smiled for Chloe’s small snores. They always comforted Max back to sleep when she woke suddenly in the middle of the night. 

She would never forget those gentle snores. 

Finally, once she’d committed it all to memory, Max walked around to Chloe’s side of the bed and slipped beneath the covers. She hadn’t bothered getting dressed since they'd had sex, and she wanted to feel Chloe’s skin against her even as she faded from this life. It felt comforting somehow. 

Max snuggled up to her wife, her body touching every inch she could from toe tip to shoulder. She looped her arm holding the photo underneath Chloe’s neck so that she could see it as she cuddled into her. 

She couldn’t believe she was about to do this. None of it felt real, even as Chloe’s warmth seeped into her, reminding her of what she did it for. 

A quick kiss against Chloe’s cheek and Max nuzzled into the crook of her neck, taking in her scent with a contented sigh. Motor oil, weed, and a vague hint of lavender from her shampoo. 

Chloe made a small happy groan, and Max knew she couldn’t dawdle. Her free hand wound around Chloe’s waist and held her tightly as her eyes found the photo. Even in the dim light of the moon, she could see it clearly, and all too soon the edges of her vision began to go white. When her body felt like it was melting into a puddle, she let out a ragged gasp. 

That feeling never got easier.

In front of her she _saw_ more than _felt_ Chloe stir. It only took Chloe a moment to wake enough to see the photo Max’s hand held in front of them. Her wife spun around in the bed, a look of desperation painted on her face. 

“I love you, Chloe.” 

Max was pretty sure she said it, but her mouth felt like it was falling away. The look of anguish and betrayal in Chloe’s eyes would have crushed Max’s resolve if it wasn’t already too late. 

Chloe’s mouth opened in a silent plea as Max’s ears stopped working, and she could see her mouthing, “No, Max! No! No!” as her hands grasped her wife’s shoulders. 

But before she could see more, her awareness faded and she fell away like a raindrop that begins a storm.

...

* * *

…

And then Max wasn’t anywhere. 

It lasted for maybe a second. 

Or it might have been an eternity for all Max knew. How long _did_ one hang suspended and disembodied in an endless white expanse when traveling backward through time?

…

* * *

…

Max was suddenly aware of her arm reaching forward for the picture her camera developed, and of Chloe’s excited jabbering. As she turned her back, Max took a moment to catch herself, her hands on her knees, camera and photo clenched in each hand. Bile rose in her throat as she thought of the look Chloe had given her as she slipped away.

Thinking of it broke her heart, and seeing Chloe _right there_ , Max had to restrain herself from reaching for her and begging her forgiveness. But she kept her arms on her legs, and did her best to swallow the wretched feeling that writhed in her stomach, making her feel vile.

It took everything in her not to break down in that moment. 

She couldn’t afford to. 

Not now. 

“Whoa, Maximus! You okay, babe?” Chloe’s hand lighted on the small of her back while the other reached across her shoulders, supporting her. Always supporting her. 

Thankfully Max couldn’t feel a nosebleed yet in this jump. This one will be easier to pass off. 

“Yeah,” she grunted as she stood upright. Max exhaled and shook her head, shaking off the horrible feeling of betraying the trust of the most important person in your life as she forced a weak smile onto her lips. “Just got lightheaded for a sec.” She did her best to hold the smile, but felt more like she was grimacing instead.

Next to her, Chloe rolled her eyes. “I _told_ you, you need to drink more water!” 

A small giggle came from Max as she did her best to play along. “Sorry!” She tried again, feeling like she was playing a role in acting like herself as she flashed Chloe a sheepish grin. “Could you run in and grab me some?” She pointed behind Chloe, “I’m just going to commandeer your stool for a minute.”

She stepped aside and helped Max onto the stool like she was some kind of frail old woman, but Max rejoiced in every little touch, and reveled in the familiar intimacy of the way Chloe touched her. Once Max was seated on the stool, Chloe kissed her cheek. “You know thieves in a captain’s workshop get punished, right?” She winked, “Captain Bluebeard will get her revenge tonight, matey.” She passed a possessive look over Max before turning to head in the house. “Bee arrrrrrrgh beeeee,” she called over her shoulder in a gravelly tone. 

Once the trance was broken, Max called after her, “it’s my mom’s shed, Bluebeard!”

She smirked as Chloe raised both hands and flipped her off without looking back. 

Nostalgia overwhelmed her. As much as she wanted to stay and live in the moment, she needed to be moving on. There were still _so many_ jumps she had to make before she was done. 

Max had a rough idea of all the photos she would need to complete the journey. It was just a matter of remembering where they were in each time the time limit her jumps alloted her. This moment wasn’t going to last long at all, either. At most, she guessed maybe two minutes were left as she felt it’s ‘edges’ closing in from beyond the neighborhood.

Feeling the ‘edges’ of a moment approach always made her think of that Stephen King movie, ‘The Langoliers’. Her dad had been obsessed with it, even if he had never actually read the book. 

Turning her attention to the task at hand, she shifted her focus to the photo pinned to the corkboard in front of her. It was Chloe’s first day at the auto shop, and Max surprised her by bringing her lunch. She was covered in grease and having a great time with it. Max had never seen her such a mess, so of course she’d had to snap a picture. It had been a really great day, and Chloe was always really happy working in that shop. 

Max just hoped she could make it home to the photo she needed in time. The shop was thankfully only ten minutes from the house. 

It would have to be enough time. 

She took a deep breath and focused on the photograph in front of her. “Jump number two, here we go,” she muttered. As the edges of reality began to fade to white, she heard the backdoor close. 

She was just in time. 

Max lost feeling in her limbs, and her body fell away in a gentle rain as the world faded away to nothingness. 

…

* * *

…

One white potential eternity later, she found herself perched on another stool next to a beaming Chloe, whose face was covered in grease. Her cheeks, nose, half of her forehead, and even a large smear across her neck was all smudged black. And that didn’t even take into account the coveralls she wore, though this pair actually fit her. 

Max quickly set down her camera and gripped the table as she swallowed hard. It took all of her strength to keep herself upright and Chloe instantly noticed. Her face fell as she looked at Max, her dirty hand falling on her wi- _girlfriend’s_ in support. “Whoa, baby, you okay? You look like you’re gonna hurl.”

“Yeah,” Max swallowed and puts a hand over her mouth for good measure as she wrinkled her brow. She muttered under her breath, “I _knew_ that egg wasn’t good.” She managed to force out a burp, and was rather proud of herself for how the act came together. 

It really wasn’t bad. She couldn’t help but wonder if Rachel would have been proud of her.

Across from her, Chloe grimaced. “You ate a bad egg?”

Max shrugged weakly, “It was fifty fifty.”

Chloe sighed with a small grin, “you know, you’re hot when you’re stupid.”

“Got a vomit fetish, huh?” She smirked before wincing and bent forward slightly, clutching her stomach in faux misery even as the real feeling vanished. 

“Oh yeah, Max,” Chloe laughed, “get them sweet sweet stomach juices all on my body.” She reached to grab Max’s shoulder, a softer look replacing the laughter. “Go home and lie down. I’ll be there soon enough.”

“Are you sure?” Max asked weakly.

“Yes.” Chloe grinned, “You can get all the sexy vomit you want on me then.”

She rolled her eyes and swatted Chloe’s hand away, “okay. I’ll see you at home.”

After they spent a moment exchanging goodbyes, and Chloe smeared her cheek with a line of grease, Max left the shop. As she rounded the corner to head for the car, she straightened her posture and threw off the sick act. She hated lying to Chloe, especially three times in a row like this, but it had to be done. She wouldn’t let her wife be as miserable as she was for her sake. 

Chloe deserved better than to be an afterthought. 

Max did her best to block out the roiling emotions that built inside of her. Leaving a future that felt so solid and giving up what she had with Chloe hurt like nothing she’d ever experienced. Even more than letting a town die so that she might live. She loved Chloe with all her heart. But that was also why she was doing this in the first place.

Though Max had always considered the trope of, ‘if you love them, then let them go,” to be complete horse shit, she suddenly found herself understanding. Though, she didn’t think this was exactly the situation people meant. 

Closing her eyes as she closed the car door, she felt for the ‘edges’, praying she had enough time. Thankfully, this moment was significantly longer than the one before. It’s ‘edges’ felt much farther out than the last one’s. At least fifteen minutes.

Still, she didn’t want to waste any time. 

Max grinned a little at the irony of that thought as her tires hit the road. 

With so little time before she was thrown back in bed with Chloe for a painful conversation, Max broke speed laws as much as she could in Seattle. 

It really wasn’t much considering she was in midday traffic coming from downtown. She cursed and smacked the wheel at every red light. When a detour sprouted due to roadwork she let out a stream of profanity that would impress even Chloe. 

She hadn’t remembered that.

Her drive was brought to a sudden halt as she sat and waited in line for a flagger to direct them through, all the while she drummed anxiously on the wheel. Driving was the one time she didn’t dare call up her powers. Freezing time behind the wheel was one thing, and if the density of people on the road wasn’t a factor she would try it. But trying to rewind to buy a few extra seconds was even more dangerous. 

She’d never done it, mostly because she had spent so much time anxiously thinking about the consequences. But she never knew where anyone else will be in relation to her when she came back to normal time. And even though she technically removed herself from the timestream and seemed to be intangible when she rewound, as soon as it was over was an entirely different story. 

If she were going faster than whoever was in front of her, she would plow into them, or worse, pop back into the regular time stream _inside_ of someone else’s vehicle. The possibility of that happening was not only worse, but she has no idea what would happen to herself in the process. 

And then there was the possibility of getting disoriented or, worse still, passing out behind the wheel in the process of trying it. It had been a long time since her powers had made her feel that woozy, but she didn’t trust it nonetheless. There were no good options for her superpower when driving.

That said, she _had_ used her rewind on more than one occasion to snag a parking spot. 

Chloe would have killed her if she knew all the little ways Max had found to take advantage of her power over the years. Max just never had been able to bring herself to stop using them completely. There were so many little fixes and tweaks that could improve her own and other people’s days by just going back a couple of minutes or even a few seconds. 

She told herself that she was doing it because she enjoyed helping or that it was the right thing to do. 

But truthfully? 

Max found herself becoming more and more reliant on her powers. More than once she found herself rewinding over and over again, just to play out different scenarios out of boredom. Using her power was _fun_ and try as she might to quit, Max couldn’t. 

She would sit and try to convince herself that each time was the last time and that she owed it to Chloe to stop. But there were days where she got this itch, almost an ache to use her power. There were so many possibilities throughout a day, and sometimes she just _needed_ to know what all the options were. Not to mention being able to rewind and even stop time was incredibly useful for being a photographer. 

She never missed a shot.

But if Chloe ever found out that her work had been accepted to the gallery because Max had gone back and changed things… She would never forgive Max. But Chloe had originally missed the deadline to submit her paperwork for the show, and Max couldn’t just let it happen that way. She had been so upset with herself for days and moped around the house forever. Max just couldn’t let it happen that way. 

Part of her worried she was _addicted_ to using her power. She knew that she got a physical rush from it. And the more Max used her power, the more she’s grown comfortable with it, both mentally and physically. Where once she treated it like something to be feared and respected, now it was almost like a toy. 

A toy she _needed_.

A honk behind her dragged her from her thoughts as she realized traffic began moving forward again. All of the cars ahead of her were almost to the end of the road work area. But by the time she reached the flagger, the woman turned her sign back to stop. Max can see her mouth the word, ‘sorry’ and pointed to her radio with a shrug. “Oh fuck this,” Max muttered. 

Tapping into her power she called it up, and feeling rushed, she rewound as fast she possibly could until suddenly she was right _on_ the trunk of the car that had been in front of her bumper. For a second she froze as the car was a decent way inside of her hood. Taking a deep breath, she began rewinding again, but slowly this time. She muttered, ”easy, Max. Just take it easy.” 

She reminded herself that she was reversing time. She didn’t need to rush through it to save more. 

As the first car in line came to park inside of her own, she began easing forward, releasing her grip on time as her bumper passed clear of the car at the front of the line. Falling back into the regular time stream, she heard a sudden honk from behind her. The flagger jumped and stared in her passenger side window like she’d seen a ghost. 

Max just cackled, gave her a quick two finger salute and glanced at the orange sign that read, ‘Slow’. With catastrophe avoided and her heart returning to a normal rhythm, she took off at an even speed until she hit the end of the construction zone. 

And then she drove a little recklessly. 

The ‘edges’ were _so_ much closer now. That stop cost her about five minutes. Running a stop sign, and missing a jogger by inches, Max finally pulled into the driveway of their rental home. Her skin tingled as she felt the ‘edges’ beginning to brush her. She tore inside as fast as she could. 

Where was the picture?

It was an image of her holding her first business card with a huge grin on her face. It was in a small album that only held a single photo per page… Somewhere. 

Running into the living room, Max spotted the coffee table, piled high with two or three dozen various objects. With a frustrated growl, she swept an arm over the stack, knocking items to the ground. 

She had tried forever to get Chloe to keep the table cleaner, but had long since given up, even here. Her eyes darted over the dozens of things on the floor with no luck. Her feet began to feel like puddles and she knew she’s out of time. 

Max’s eyes darted around the room, looking for anything. 

And then she spotted it.

On the wall by the door was a picture of Chloe and her with her parents from about six months ago. They were celebrating her first official paid shoot with a small dinner. Between Chloe’s job at the shop and Max finally getting paid work as a photographer, they had been able to rent their own place. 

It was only about two years off from her original goal anyway. 

It would have to do. 

Stumbling to the wall, she leaned heavily on the cheap plaster and grabbed the frame. It ripped from its place on the wall as her legs seemed to vanish. Her eyes locked onto the photo as she toppled forward, and even as she fell, it consumed her focus. 

The edges of reality began to blur and flash white as the floor rushed to meet her face. 

...

* * *

...

Max felt unsteady from the fall she had taken as she was dropped further into the past. 

Taking a selfie with her family and Chloe behind her, she realized too late she was standing as her legs came out from under her and the floor was again coming at her. 

From behind her, Chloe gave a small yell and her parents both called her name. Her eyelids fluttered open as she felt herself fully inhabit this Max. “Ugh,” she groaned, feeling her head begin to bloom with pain in her temples.

Rolling off of her face, strong arms snaked underneath hers and pulled her up. She saw red spots of blood on her parent’s ugly beige carpet as she rose, and was thankful that she’d fallen on her face. Next time she might not have such an easy cover for the nose bleed. Her face fucking hurt though. 

Ryan pulled her up and placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “You alright, sweety?” 

She pointed to her bleeding nose as the pain in her head began to fade slightly. If her her father hadn’t been holding onto her, she would have doubled back over. 

Max croaked, “other than I seem to be leaking, yeah.” 

From the corner of her vision, she saw Chloe stand and offer her arm. “Come on babe, I’ll help you get cleaned up.” She noticed Chloe give her a wary look, like she was reserving disapproval until later. 

It was a bit of a shock seeing this younger Chloe again. She wore a beanie, and her hair was still blue as always. But she was wearing almost the same outfit that she had when they escaped the ruins of Arcadia Bay. That tank top would eventually get shredded and become rags when she was working on her truck’s engine… what? A year after? That made them both… Twenty-one and twenty-two? 

They were still living with her parents at that time, and after one last trip to Away to see David, had finally come in off the road to settle down in Seattle. They would have roamed longer, but Chloe’s FEMA money from the storm was starting to run out, and it was all that had fueled their vagabond escapades for a couple of years.

They’d been some of the best years of their lives. 

Traveling together, living on gas station food as they hopped state line after state line, and just wandered aimlessly. They’d both had a lot of things to work through in those years after Arcadia Bay, and they’d helped each other through their individual darkness’. If there was one thing from her life Max would never forget, it was how meaningful those years with Chloe had been. 

She smiled weakly as Chloe took her arm and slipped the other around her waist, “thanks, Captain.”

Chloe only grunted in response as they walked to the bathroom. The trip felt eerily similar to the one from when she woke up… did it still count as earlier this evening, even though she had gone back about five and a half years? 

It _had_ just been a few minutes for her after all. 

Well…

Give or take four potentially eons long trips through a vast infinite cosmic emptiness separate from space and time. 

As they rounded the corner to the bathroom, Max flicked on the light, and Chloe set her against the counter. She grabbed a piece of toilet paper and a washcloth from under the sink. 

But she doesn’t say a word. 

“Chloe?” Max looked into her eyes, but she immediately avoided eye contact and went to dabbing at Max’s nose. Even though Max knew, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “what’s wrong?”

A sharp glare was cut off quickly and Chloe looked up at the ceiling to compose herself. Finally she looked at Max like she was trying to fight her instincts. There was anger in her voice as she asked, “did you just jump?”

“Ah…” Where did that anger come from? She had been so happy a moment ago. Max thought falling on her face had provided a decent cover this time. She quickly shook her head, “no, of course not, Chloe.” The lie was out of her mouth before she actually thought about it. It was getting worryingly easier to lie to Chloe each time. 

“So… the nose bleed?” Chloe chewed on the inside of her cheek nervously. 

Max shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the guilt at gaslighting her wife like this. “I got lightheaded when I turned around.” She smiled and cupped Chloe’s cheek. Her voice was quiet as she looked lovingly at the woman who would be her wife. “I fell for you.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “oh my god, you’re disgusting.” She grinned and leaned in to kiss Max. She pulled back, licking her lips. “Mmm. Iron-y.”

Max laughed. “Am I clean, Sexy Vampire Lady?”

She nodded, “yeah, you’re good, Max.” She slipped her hand into Max’s, “and… sorry I was a bitch.”

She gave Chloe a small shove and grinned, “hey, I’m used to it. You’re _always_ a bitch.”

Her girlfriend’s jaw dropped in mock surprise, “remind me again why I love you?”

You don’t. 

Max suppressed a wince at the thought. It was so immediate, she hated that it was that much of a knee jerk thought. 

She knew Chloe loved her. 

Just… 

Less… Than she was capable of. Max smiled slyly through the hesitation. “Because I know what _this_ does to you?” She darted forward and lightly nipped the sensitive skin of her jaw. 

Chloe jumped and let out a small squeak. She growled, “as good a point as that is, if you make me horny in the middle of dinner with your parents, it’s going to be _hours_ before you cum tonight.” 

Max arched an eyebrow and bit her lip. Her voice dropped to that sultry tone that she eventually realized made Chloe weak. “Is that a promise?” She darted in and caught Chloe’s bottom lip between her teeth. The momentary look of surprise followed quickly by surrender was worth it before Chloe pulled away. 

“Bad girl!” She hissed. 

She leaned back, looking Chloe up and down with half-lidded eyes and a satisfied smirk. “Gotta earn that punishment somehow,” Max winked. 

She really didn’t have time for this, but flirting with Chloe was always _so_ much fun. Especially when they were younger. The older they had gotten together, the more Max could see her wife’s guilt over her feelings grow. Chloe had gotten all too distant in their later years together. 

Here though? 

This Chloe was still so full of fire and desire for her. 

Max just wanted to remember a little of it. 

Suddenly she was aware of the edges approaching quickly, and she knew that she had to wrap this up. She hopped off the counter and stole a quick kiss from Chloe as she pushed by her. With a quick look over her shoulder, she grabbed Chloe by the front of her shirt and dragged her from the bathroom. 

As they entered the dining room, Max waved off her parents concerns and insisted she was fine. She glanced at the refrigerator and saw the picture she had been looking for in her last jump. The one of her opening her business cards. 

She’d had a thousand of them made and left all over the country when they stopped for one thing or another. It was no wonder it had taken her so long to get paying work. Sometimes she would get call from some rinky dink town in Georgia or Wyoming when they were in Maine or somewhere else too distant to book anything.

That picture hung there forever before she had bought a proper album to put her polaroids in. Chloe took her seat again as Max grabbed her glass. “I’m going to get some water. Can I get anybody else anything?”

She did her best to play it cool as the three at the table declined. The ‘edges would close in maybe a minute and a half. 

Plenty of time. 

Max made her way to the fridge and placed her glass in the ice dispenser. While it worked, she glanced at the photo and focused on it. The sounds of laughter from the table as the edges of her vision went white, and she felt her hand on the glass grow cold as it overflowed with ice. 

Max noticed her feet were cold from the ice piling up on them right before she was swept away as though she were a river. 

…

* * *

…

The white nothing gave way to a bright flash in her face, and this time she was immediately aware of her head pulsing as a headache exploded throughout her skull. Almost immediately, her nose began to trickle blood down her front as she doubled over, dropping her business cards. Her head dropped and she held it between her knees as the cards spilled over the her feet. “Oh fuck,” she growled.

“Max!” Chloe yelled from just in front of her. Instantly, she was at Max’s side, her hands rubbing her back. “What’s wrong?”

She groaned as her head throbbed and colors bloomed in her vision. “Massive headache,” she whined. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Max. Really?” Chloe’s tone suddenly changed from concerned to angry as she looked down at her girlfriend. Max could feel her hands recoil from her. “You’d better have a good goddamn reason for doing this.”

There would be no lying to Chloe this time around. “It’s pretty good I-” she sucked air through her teeth as the pain seemed to pulse, her head feeling like it was squeezed by a vice. She whimpered the last could of words, “I think.” Tears started to roll down her face as the headache suddenly faded all at once. It was like the pain enveloped her before vanishing altogether. 

Chloe’s voice seemed devoid of sympathy as she coldly asked, “I suppose that means I didn’t?”

Max’s eyes opened as the pain dissipated. On the carpet between her feet, there is a small pool of blood that was just starting to soak into the carpet. “Huh… that’s more blood than usual.” She felt herself get a little woozy and start to fall from the chair. Luckily, Chloe caught her and managed to get her to the bed they shared. 

It's almost weird seeing her childhood bed again.

“Jesus, Max.” Chloe sounded upset, but her hand was lightly tugging at the shirt Max wore. “You got blood everywhere.” Carefully she began to roll the fabric up Max’s stomach and tugs it up from behind her. 

Before she could stop her mouth, Max asked in spite of herself, “gonna hate-fuck me now?” She weakly chuckled. Her limbs still felt boneless.

“No, dumbass. We’re changing your- _her_ shirt before it stains.” Chloe's voice sounded far away like this conversation was just a placeholder. “This is Max’s favorite tee,” she muttered. 

Max propped herself up on her elbows with a raised eyebrow. “Uh… I’m right here, Chloe. What’s with the third person reference?” 

A glare met Max’s gaze and for a second she shied away. She forgot the kind of anger that Chloe was capable of in those earlier years. “ _You_ , are not _my_ Max. You’re just borrowing her,” she spit the words from her mouth like they were rotten and offensive. 

“Chloe…” She had never seen Chloe talk to her like this. Sure they had fought, but there was betrayal and hatred in her eyes. “I’m _still your_ Max.” 

Sort of. Not for long though.

She sat the rest of the way up to pull off the shirt herself. 

“No. You’re not.” She grabbed the shirt from Max’s hand without looking at her, “ _my_ Max promised me she wouldn’t do shit like this again.” Chloe got up suddenly and stomped toward the door. “I’m going to get the blood out of this shirt before we hit the road again. Just do what you came to do and give her _the fuck_ back to me.”

Max winced as the door slammed behind Chloe. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to put on some kind of act this time. 

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her body feeling more or less like a body again. Feeling the effects of traveling through so many photos, and pushing herself back through time like this… Max was a little worried how the next jump would be. She’d never tampered with her power to this extent before. 

She didn’t have long to linger on the thought though. The ‘edges’ would be here soon. She just needed the last picture and then she could go back and fix things. 

Looking through her drawers in her childhood desk sitting opposite the bed, she shuffled through pictures looking for the right one. Finding a recet stack though, Max couldn’t help looking through them with a sad look on her face. She found dozens of pictures from their first time at Away, of David, Stanley and Arthur, Karen, and Joan with one of her latest art pieces. 

There had been a long-running bet between Max and Chloe over when exactly Joan and Karen would hook up, though as far as they knew, it had never happened, much to their disappointment. 

Going back further, Max stared at the photo in her hand and felt as though ice had flooded her veins. In Max’s hand was a photo from the day they attended the sentencing for Mark Jefferson. The Dark Room proved a perfect place to survive the storm, and David, Victoria and Jefferson were safe the next morning when David called the police and gave them directions to the barn. 

When she’d taken the photo, she’d felt so confident and sure of her herself, right up until they arrived at the courthouse. 

Having to testify at that trial, having to be in the same room as him, all the while he stared at her silently. It was like he was still threatening to kill her as she took the stand to give her testimony. The flashbacks to that night overwhelmed her, and if not for Chloe there to hold her when she was done, Max wouldn’t have made it through. 

Thankfully Jefferson had received life without the possibility of parole. He had been the cause of too many missing persons cases around the Pacific Northwest and California to have gotten anything light. The binders themselves paired with Rachel’s body in the junkyard had proved more than damning enough to put him away for the rest of his life. 

For reasons that meteorology had never explained, American Rust had been untouched in the storm, and Rachel’s body had been easily recovered.

Max hadn’t considered that going back in time would release him back into the world. For a moment she seriously considers letting herself fall back to her twenty-six year old self. She wasn’t sure she could handle having to face that man again. She still sometimes woke up in a cold sweat from nightmares about being back in that room with him. Except in her nightmares, she never had her powers, and it always ended the same way. Sometimes worse with the details she learned of his activities during the trial. 

The man was a monster through and through. 

He had broken every one of his 'subjects' in whatever way was required to capture that moment he sought so desperately. He had assaulted, raped, tortured, killed, and broken his captives mentally and emotionally. Whatever was ‘necessary’. In the end, many of them died from the physical trauma. 

But all who died had fought him to the end. 

Her body quaked as Max pulled herself from the memories. She hated that even seven years since, his memory still had this power over her. As scared as she had been of him before the trial, it had become so much worse after.

Max quickly shoved the photo to the back of the stack. She couldn’t stomach facing it for more than a few seconds. 

A few behind it was a moment that she would very much have liked to relive again. It made her sad to think that Chloe had gotten rid of this one. 

In the picture, she and Chloe lay in the bed of the truck, blankets pulled up to their armpits and both of them clearly naked. They had tired but contented grins on their faces, and their chests and necks were spotted with dark purple bruises. It had been about two months after they left Seattle for the first leg of their trip to Los Angeles, and the two of them had finally set a definition for their relationship. 

They went to dinner and Chloe somehow already managed to get them a fifth of whiskey. For weeks they had nervously been dancing around what to call themselves and how they should move forward. Being friends for so long, trying to make their relationship a romantic one felt like a large bump to overcome. It wasn’t that they didn’t want it, they just had a hard time making the transition from friends to lovers without a little liquid encouragement. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of Max’s mouth. Until she was five swigs deep into that bottle, she’d giggled nervously every time they leaned in to kiss one another. 

Behind the photo, Max saw another moment that meant the world to her, but the approaching ‘edges’ made her have to quickly shuffle past it. As much as she wanted to relive those first few months of their relationship, she couldn’t. 

Max knew she could easily get lost in them if she let herself. 

Finally, at the very bottom of the stack, she found the one she had been looking for since the beginning. It was a simple picture. She had commemorated opening her new camera with a selfie. The first selfie of a great many. 

It was a photo that Rachel was still alive during. 

Arcadia Bay was still intact. 

And she and Chloe hadn’t seen one another in five years. 

Max chewed on her lip as the edges approached, but she couldn’t bring herself to follow through. The wealth of photos in front of her gave her so much time that she didn’t have before in the later years. There were so many memories in her hands, and it made it hard to deny herself. 

But she had to. 

She couldn’t linger in her past and never move on. 

Chloe needed her to, if she was to have a life beyond mourning for someone almost ten years dead. 

Rachel needed her too, if she was going to continue living her life.

But Max couldn’t do it. 

Not with how she left things with Chloe. 

She wanted, no. She _needed_ to say goodbye to her properly. Max needed some sort of closure on their relationship. She needed to apologize for betraying her trust. Leaving all of that unsaid just didn’t sit right with her. 

She owed Chloe more than that. 

Setting the stack of photos down, Max picked up the shot of Chloe from when they had just arrived in Seattle after Arcadia Bay. She looked through the couple of bags she managed to pack in their frenzy to get to the lighthouse, desperately looking for… something. They looked so out of place in Max’s teenage room. Chloe hadn’t been able to save much. Mostly her Rachel mementos, pictures from her childhood and of William, the stolen Blackwell handicapped fund, which Max still couldn’t believe she encouraged Chloe to take. There was also assorted clothes, extra toiletries and snacks. 

They lived pretty lightly on the couple of days it took them to reach Seattle. The truck had been less than cooperative about the long trek. Later, when Chloe had done some proper work on it, it was fine carrying them across the country and back. But until then? They were lucky to had made it to Ryan and Vanessa’s.

Looking at that picture, somehow it felt right. This was the moment she needed to revisit before she utterly changed their lives. Just one last stolen moment with the woman she would grow to love, and be loved by in return. 

As Max stared guiltily at the first image of their lives together, her vision whited out, and she was cast into eternity as her body melted like a block of ice. 

…

* * *

…

The world came back into focus in the same room, and she was in the same seat she had just left. She set her camera down as the headache came back, forcing it’s way through her skull like a railroad spike. This time, she quickly stuffed a dirty shirt to her nose as the trickle started. Thankfully the headache at least wasn’t _as_ bad as it had been in the last jump. She was at least prepared for it though.

In front of her, Chloe didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything as she ripped their bags open and dumped their contents. She muttered angrily, “where the _fuck_ did it go?” 

“Where’d what go ba-luebleard?” Her voice was muffled by the shirt she held to her face. Almost calling Chloe babe probably wouldn’t be a good way to start this jump. 

“Hair dye, Max. Did you forget what we were literally just talking about?” She threw her clothes to the left and right as she asked. “Your powers are eating a hole in your brain, I swear,” Chloe growled. 

The headache seemed to pass fairly quickly, and the bloody nose with it. Max quickly rubbed away the remaining blood from her upper lip and deposited the shirt to the floor at her side. “Check the front right pocket of my backpack,” she suggested. For some reason even after all these years, she still remembered that was where it had been. 

Chloe ripped the bottles of blue and red dye from the pouch with a triumphant cry and held them close to her chest. “Thank fuck! I need a touchup like a motherfucker,” she grumbled.

Max forgot how grumpy Chloe was on getting to her parent’s house. Maybe this memory was a mistake? Their first time having sex would probably have been a better choice... 

But she was here now, and she would just have to make do. Max tentatively asked, “hey, Chloe?”

The strange note of forlorn longing in Max’s voice made Chloe turn and look at her. _Really_ look for the first time since she jumped. “Yeah? Uh… oh.” Max could see it dawn on her that she wasn’t looking at _her_ Max anymore. 

Max realized just how differently she carried herself from when she was eighteen. Max had gone from a nervous shy little hipster and grown into a confident, outgoing, and self-assured hipster. 

“So…” Chloe started, “how did I die _this time_ , Super Max?” To her credit, unlike the last jump, she didn’t seem to get as angry with her. Her tone was surprisingly even, almost like she was conducting a business meeting. Maybe it was because all the craziness from their week in Arcadia Bay was still so fresh that this felt normal?

Max chewed on her lip for a second before she answered, “emotionally.” 

Chloe cocked an eyebrow at her and a small smirk played on her lips. “Emotionally?” She scoffed, “what kind of bullshit is that?”

“I’m serious, Chloe.” Max stopped to reach into the drawer just in front of her. She shuffled through the significantly smaller stack of photos as she talked. “For eight years, I’ve watched you pull further and further away from me.” She glanced at the girl who would become her wife, “It’s partly my fault. But, I can’t take it anymore. I have to do something. You were getting better and then after we got married… you started to spiral.”

Chloe’s face seemed to pale as Max spoke. “Married?” The question came out on a breath, barely audible. “Eight years?” She shook her head, “Max, _why_? Weren’t we happy?”

She dropped her gaze to her feet, forgetting the pictures momentarily. “We were but… there was a ghost that lived in our walls. One that haunted you every single day of your life. The one that you love so desperately, that you just can’t let her go.” Max could feel the tears that built in the corners of her eyes, but she kept them from falling. 

She wouldn’t let them. 

“You…” Chloe shook her head. “You mean Rachel?”

Max nodded and met Chloe’s eye with a sad smile, “who else would I mean?” Her hand settled on the last polaroid in the stack, the final goal of this whole journey backward through time.

Her eyes shot to Max’s hands and Chloe licked her lips nervously. “What are you doing, Max?”

Max sighed, “I’m getting her back, Chloe. I’m going to do what I should have done from the beginning.”

The girl across from her only blinked, and Max could see the struggle on her face. She already knew what Chloe was wanting to say versus what she thought she _should_ say. Max had seen that look for eight years. Chloe had gotten good at hiding it, but it was one Max knew, no matter how subtly it was delivered.

"It's okay," Max whispered. "I've seen how you feel, Chloe. It's not your fault. Rachel was a once in a lifetime thing." Max smiled, swallowing the pain the admission brought. "And you deserve to have her back."

Chloe dropped the hair dye at her feet and shook her head, “no, Max. You can’t do this. You can’t sacrifice your happiness for me. I’m…” Chloe looked torn, and in her heart Max knew she didn’t mean it. “I’m not worth that.

“Oh, Chloe…” A sad smile lit Max’s face. “You have no idea what you’re worth to me.” She suddenly grinned, “you’re _price_ less!” 

Chloe groaned, rolling her eyes. 

A small soft laugh fell from Max, “besides. Kinda self-absorbed to think you’re the only one who can make me happy, isn’t it?” Polaroid in hand, she stood and crossed the room to take Chloe’s hand as the girl stared at her in bewilderment. “And you _are_ worth it.” Max gave her hand a small squeeze, “you’re worth _everything_ , to me.”

Chloe opened and closed her mouth once before she could make a sound. “You can’t-”

“Chloe.” The stern way Max said her name caught the girl off guard, and she stopped whatever she was about to say. “I didn’t come here to argue with you about this. There’s nothing you can say to change my mind. We’ve had this argument for years. I’m doing it.” Max closed her eyes and pulled Chloe’s hand to her cheek, nuzzling it before pulling it to her lips. She placed a small kiss on her wrist and continued quietly, “I just needed to say goodbye to you. To _my_ Chloe.” Their eyes met and the breath caught in her not-wife’s throat as she said, “while you’re _still my_ Chloe.

She shook her head again, “Max… please!” Chloe’s voice was filled with fear. 

Max opened her eyes and let go of Chloe’s hand. With a deep breath she met those gorgeous blue eyes, “I know you probably won’t forgive me. But I came to say I’m sorry for breaking my promise.” Max shrugged sheepishly, “I guess _promises._ ” 

Chloe stared at her not comprehending but waiting for an answer. 

“I couldn’t stop using my power,” Max’s eyes shot to the floor in shame. She could feel herself wither under Chloe’s gaze even as she remembered she was technically older than her. “I jumped back in time to save Rachel and alter our pasts,” she closed her eyes, feeling especially guilty about the last one. “And… I’m fucking up our forever.”

A bone crushing hug enveloped Max, and her eyes flew open as she registered Chloe’s head pressing down against hers. “I’m sorry, Max.” A ragged breath tore it’s way from Chloe’s lungs and she sounded on the verge of tears. “I wish I could have gotten over her for you. And I’m so sorry you had to suffer being neglected by me to come to this.” A small trickle touched Max’s ear, “fuck. It’s been eight years for you, but only a couple of days for me.” Chloe shook her head and stepped back, wiping her eyes while trying to compose herself. “I’m sorry I sucked to be married to.”

They parted and Max shrugged sadly, “it wasn’t all bad. We were actually pretty great, even if you were a little emotionally unavailable at times.” She grinned, “the sex was out of this world though. I’m gonna miss that.”

Chloe snorted, “I turned Max Caulfield into a horndog, huh?

She held her hands out a couple of feet apart and winked, “just a little bit.” Max dropped her hands and the two stared at each other as a silence stretched between them. Suddenly the ‘edges’ began to tickle her awareness, and Max realized she had maybe a minute left. She let out a small sigh. “It’s time for me to go,” she whispered.

Chloe surged forward and wrapped her in another bone crushing hug. “Give Rachel a kick in the ass for me. And make sure I don’t leave her over… what she did.” She heard Chloe sigh, “don’t you forget about me.”

“Impossible,” Max whispered. “I’ll make sure you two stay together. And don’t worry,” she winked as they parted. “I’ll see you really soon. I promise.”

A sad smile crossed Chloe’s face, “don’t fuck this up, Max.”

She flashed Chloe a shit eating grin, “don’t worry. Time’s on my side.” She winked and raised the picture to her eyes. 

As her vision whited out, the last thing she heard was Chloe snort, “fucking dork.” 

And then she was gone, like water down the drain.

…

* * *

…

As the world came into focus, Max saw her parents standing just a few feet off. Her dad held her mom and they both smiled at their daughter.

Vanessa glanced at the camera, “I know it isn’t the one you wanted, but do you like it?”

Max nodded emphatically ignoring the massive pain that was blooming throughout her head. “Yeah, mom. It’s great!” She glanced down at the selfie in her hands and the enormity of the time she’d gone back weighed on her. Over eight years. And it felt like it only took an hour, tops. 

The pain passed quickly, and the ‘edges’ were fairly far off, thankfully. Maybe fifteen minutes. 

That was more than enough time. 

For a moment, Max was surprised that she still had her powers since the event that she received them from hadn’t happened yet. But then they had worked when she tried to save William, so she shouldn't have been surprised. In the end, she was basically trying to understand magic, and that typically had no explanation. 

It suddenly hit her just how far she was from Chloe, and how with just one small action, Max would never have her again. Already she felt a hole where her wife should have been. The void she felt there emanated pain for that loss. But she would feel it later. She still had things to do.

Max looked up at her parents. She knew they would agree to the request if she phrased it right. But knowing how much it is going to change… well, everything, she felt as though all of time was her plaything in that moment. “Hey, Mom? Dad?” 

“What is it, Maxine?” Ryan beamed down at her. 

“Well…” she tried her best to be the nervous little fuck she was at seventeen. She didn’t want to oversell it, but twenty-five year old Max got really annoyed every time she thought of the easily cowed child she had been. “I was hoping since spring break is in a couple of weeks, that…” She trailed off and nervously sucked air through her teeth before trying again. “Well, I was kind of thinking that _maybe_ -”

A smile broke across Vanessa’s face and she glanced at her husband before asking, “we get it, we’re lame.” She laughed, “I know we're supposed to visit your grandparents in Eugene. What would _you_ rather do? It is your vacation time after all.”

“I want to go to Arcadia Bay!” The words tumbled out of her mouth almost too fast to hear. “I-I feel bad that I fell out of touch with Chloe and I want to surprise her. I miss her _so_ much!” Max chewed on her cheek. She just had to play to their sympathies, but also surprise them by making a mature choice as well. 

That’s what every parent wants from their child, right? 

“And, while I’m there, I’d like to check out Blackwell academy as well. I’d _love_ to do my senior year there!” Max offered a sheepish smile, “if I can get in, that is.”

Nevermind the fact that she had originally sent in her application in February and it was March now. She hadn’t actually talked to her parents about it until she had gotten in. Max hadn’t had a lot of confidence in it. But being accepted not only as a student but also for scholarships, her parents had found no reason to say no. 

“Uh-” Ryan hesitated and looked at his wife. Vanessa only shrugs. “I guess we could make a detour on the drive south.” He looked worriedly at Max, “where would you stay though?”

“I could message Joyce on Facebook and make plans with her?” Max smiled, knowing that there was no way her second mom would say no. “She would more than likely let me stay with them.”

“And if Joyce doesn’t come through?” Vanessa quirked an eyebrow at her daughter.

“Well…” Max chewed on her cheek. “If she doesn’t then, could you guys put me up in a hotel?” She threw her hands together and put on the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. “It would mean _so_ much to me to be able to see Chloe. And I have so much to say to say to her and I just have to say it in person.” Her face fell, “anything else would be a cop-out.” 

From the corner of her eye, she saw her dad smile. "Of course, sweetheart. We know how much you miss Chloe." 

That was easier than she had expected. "Thank you so much!" Max jumped excitedly and threw her arms around either parent’s neck. "I'm going to go message Joyce now!"

With that, Max tore out of the room and upstairs to her bedroom. The edges would close in less than ten minutes and she still had a note to write herself and message Joyce. Tearing through her drawers, she pulled out a pen and paper and began writing.

_Max,_

_Look, you won't remember writing this,but I need you to trust  
me. This is all going to sound crazy, but I don't have time to  
make it make more sense. _

_Spring Break we're going to Acadia Bay and you're going to  
see Chloe. She and her girlfriend Rachel need you. It's going  
to be your job to help them stay safe. You need to make up  
with Chloe. I promise everything will be a lot easier than you  
think it will be. _

_Everything will be okay._

_Just make sure that Rachel never gets into a sketchy Rv with  
a guy named Frank or hangs out with a guy named Nathan  
Prescott alone. _

_Also, I know he’s your photography idol, but  
Mark Jefferson is a fucking psycho and you're going to need  
to make sure he goes to jail to keep people safe. There's an  
old barn owned by the Prescotts with a bomb shelter under  
it where he takes people he abducts. Send the police there  
when you get to town. _

_DON'T GO YOURSELF!_

_I know this is a lot and I wish I could do it myself. But we've  
done this before. I believe in you. I couldn't save Rachel. I  
never had the chance, so it's your job now. Please don't fail. _

_I've messaged Joyce already and talked with mom and dad.  
You just need to make sure this happens. _

_I know you can do it._

_Be good to us._

_< 3 Future Max_

It all sounded insane, but Max had never been the kind of person to ignore a note she wrote herself. She usually remembered writing them though.

She didn’t have time to do more though. The edges would be there in about eight minutes.

She pulled out her phone and opened her Facebook. Ignoring the pain of old cellphone technology and hating the slow speed the internet loaded at, she navigated her friendlist until she found Joyce. She quickly started a message.

_Hi Joyce! I'm sorry it's been so long since I've been in  
contact! I've missed you all so, so much. I was hoping  
that I could come and see you guys for spring break  
in a few weeks, if that’s okay?_

_I have so much I need to say to Chloe and I feel awful  
for neglecting our friendship all these years. I just need  
to say it in person. I was hoping that I might be able to  
stay at your house for that time? If not, my parents can  
put me up in a hotel. I just REALLY want to come and  
make this right. _

_Also, provided it's all okay, could you not tell Chloe I'm  
coming? I want it to be a surprise. I hope you're both not  
mad at me for the five years of radio silence. _

_I'm also going to be attending Blackwell Academy in the  
fall if all goes well, and I want to check out the school too.  
But mostly, I can't wait that long to see Chloe, especially  
if I don't get in. I just don't know when I'll get a better chance._

_Let me know, please! My spring break is going to be the  
19th of April to the 28th. _

_Almost forgot that part!_

_Love,  
Max_

She tapped send as the edges began to tickle the back of her neck. Max breathed a sigh of relief. Sitting back in her desk chair she couldn't help but smile. 

She’d done it. Max only wished she could be there to do things herself. But she had faith in her younger self to get it done. The poor girl would be going in blind with vague directions, but hopefully it would be enough.

It _had_ to be enough. 

She closed her eyes as her vision went white, driving worry about what would happen from her mind. 

Her body began to fall away in pieces over the precipice of a waterfall as she accepted her passage toward an uncertain future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I may have unnecessarily drawn this chapter out longer than I needed to, but it was a fun one to write. Playing with the possibilities of a less restricted version of hwe photo jumping thing was too good to pass up ^.^ 
> 
> I really enjoyed finding ways for her to have to pass off her entering a past Max each time lol my favorite though was falling on her face and being like, "well that was convenient!" xD 
> 
> But how did you feel about it? I hope I'm not making her too one-dimensionally self-sacrificing here, but I kinda feel like I might be. To an extent, I think it's because she sees her breaking the promise that she made Chloe about her powers not once, but twice now as being something repent for. Like, if she can't do this thing right, the last she can do is give Chloe something important to her. 
> 
> And that seems VERY like Max to me! 
> 
> Why I didn't put that as a thought of hers in the chapter as even a throwaway line, idk ^.^; but I've edited it enough and I'm not going back to fit it in again lol
> 
> Did you like how I handled her powers in this chapter? Any complaints about it or anything else? Any theories on where we're headed next? 
> 
> From here on out, I promise the story gets very linear. 
> 
> Well... As linear as a story featuring time travel can anyway lol but we're not going to have any more major time skips for the foreseeable future :D
> 
> It might take me a couple weeks to get the next chapter out, just to forewarn you. I realized that I hate how it's written and I'm going to rewrite it almost entirely a third time now lol I'll have switched it between Max, Chloe, and finally I'm landing on Rachel as where it should come from xD 
> 
> Plus, I really didn't get her character quite right in the previous iterations of chapter 5 up to this point, and of anyone, getting Rachel right is REALLY important to me. She just has a lot of layers to work through, and I was honestly working with a very surface level interpretation of her until... Well... The rewrite that hasn't happened yet lol 
> 
> But I think the pieces I have for this next chapter are some of my favorites that I've written for this whole project, so I'm excited to finally be getting there ^.^ 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts in the comments, and until I get this next one rewritten (which tbh should be soonish because I'm **HELLA** fucking stuck on my other story), I'll see you where I see you ^.^ 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Buh bye y'all! <3


	5. Past of Future Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max wakes up years before she expected to, Rachel meets Max, struggles with insecurity, and Rachel and Chloe struggle to accept time travel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> Well, it took a little bit, but I have a fresh Frankenchapter for you ^.^ 
> 
> It's a Frankenchapter because it's literally pieces of three iterations of this chapter, sewn together into my perfect creation.
> 
> It's **ALIVE**!!!!!!!
> 
> But I'm pretty happy with it ^.^ I think this is my favorite chapter so far, if only because I had a lot of fun writing it... each time I wrote it xD But I thought we were seriously needing a Rachel perspective and I'd like to think I was right, since the only time we've heard from her was chapter 1 and she was having a rough time. 
> 
> I mean, she's not having a much better time here, but she's at least awake and interacting with people :P 
> 
> So, lets just jump into it :D

As the world faded from white, Vanessa’s voice cut through the fog. 

“Maxine! Maxine, wake up! We’re here.”

“Ugh…” Max groaned, her head lolling to the side as the pounding intensified like a bass drum. She felt nauseous, her head was killing her, and she was vaguely aware of her bladder being more full than a tanker truck. 

At least, there wasn’t a thong wedged in her ass this time. 

“Bathrooooom,” she moaned. Her eyes were bleary as she wondered why this Max was with her parents. All around, bright sunlight mingled with the dark greys of pavement, the contrast made all the more extreme by her fingers rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Head on inside,” her dad laughed as he stopped the car. “We’re going to grab lunch here before we continue on without you.”

She bailed out of the car as it started forward again to park. Urgency moved her forward until realization stopped her in her tracks, forcing her to a halt like a crash test dummy meeting a brick wall. 

Max rubbed her eyes with tight fists, sure they were lying. Her vision cleared and she actually looked at her surroundings with shallow breath. Deja vu overwhelmed her, and an assault of memories hit her like a suckerpunch as she stared at the sign for the Two Whales.

Proving her power to Chloe.

Stealing Frank’s keys. 

The inside of his R.V.

Seeing the diner explode.

Her last talk with Frank. 

Seeing Joyce for the last time.

Meeting Warren for the photo.

A sharp twinge sliced through her skull like a hot knife through butter and she braced a hand against her temple as she struggled not to fall to her knees. Max’s vision went fuzzy, fading from white to black as she rocked forward on her heels and caught herself on her thighs. It passed after a couple of agonizing seconds and she could make out the telltale droplets of blood hitting the concrete from her nose as her vision cleared. 

What the fuck was she doing here? 

Why hadn’t she caught up to her current timeline? 

As Max stood, she caught sight of herself in the reflection from the window of the Two Whales, twin trails of blood streaming down her face. She was still seventeen, and this had to be her spring break trip. 

Why had her power stopped her here? 

Was it gone, and this was the furthest it would take her?

Glancing behind her, she saw her parents car doors open as they each extended a leg to exit. Reaching for it like a familiar mug on a strained coffee table, she tapped into her power, and began to cycle time backward. She watched her afterimage trail back a few steps, the car reversing toward her again from the parking spot. 

She released time before the car made it to her, and groaned as another spike of pain shot through her temples. 

Releasing a long breath, Max shoved the sleeve of her hoodie against her nose as the stream of blood let loose again. Before she could think about it further, her bladder gave an uncomfortable lurch as she realized she was about to pee herself, and she started toward the Two Whales.

She entered it’s shadow and as her hand grasped the faded chrome pull handle on the front door, the memories lingered at the back of her mind. Memories all from a life that no longer existed. So much seemed to revolve around the Two Whales. 

It was almost like the eye of her own personal hurricane. 

For a second, Max caught sight of Joyce’s back as she reached for someone’s order before quick steps carried her into the bathroom and she slammed a stall door closed behind her.

Undoing her pants with one hand, Max quickly seated herself and began unfurling toilet paper while her other hand stayed firmly pressed against her nose. Bringing the toilet paper to her face, she braced her elbow on her knee, and dropped her throbbing skull against her hand. 

Why was she here? Max opened her eyes enough to look down at her free, seventeen year old hand. 

This had never happened before.

Jumping through photos always brought her back to current with her timeline. She should have been twenty-six now and doing… god only knew what. So why had she only been brought up to this point? 

Had she so altered the course of her life that she had no option but to relive it? Or had her powers just hiccuped and dropped her off in the future a ways? The test in the parking lot had proved that they at least hadn’t gone anywhere. Was she going to be jumping back through to the future in a series of these? 

Max tightly closed her eyes and concentrated, feeling for approaching 'edges.' 

But there was nothing. 

The moment felt solid. 

She chewed on her lip as she grabbed a bit of toilet paper. Maybe she was _supposed_ to be here? Is this what her powers had been for all along? Saving Rachel? 

Was that what fate or destiny or whatever bullshit the universe wanted?

Rising from the toilet, she glanced at the bloody sleeve of her hoodie and did up her pants.

A small part of her expected Nick Fury to be leaning against the wall when she opened the stall door. She could just hear Sam Jackson's voice say, "Maxine Caulfield, I'd like to speak to you about the Avengers initiative."

But the wall was blank, save for several scrawled lines of graffiti, when she opened it.

Ah well. 

A girl could dream. 

Removing her hoodie, she quickly ran the sleeve under water and did her best to rub the fresh blood out of the fabric before it stained. Luckily almost all of it came out, and she tied it around her waist before she cleaned her arm and face free of blood smears.

Finally, Max washed her hands while thinking of the implications for having to relive her life from seventeen. "Fuck," she muttered. She shrugged, rethinking her choice of words. "Er… I guess… _wowzer_ , at this point in my life?" She scoffed, thinking of her teenage vocabulary.

When she walked back out, Joyce was standing at the table talking with her parents. Setting down the coffee carafe, she wrapped Max in a tight hug that reminded her of Chloe's. Hugging Joyce again felt like coming back to her childhood home though, where Chloe just felt like home. The warmth that her voice held made Max want to cry as she whispered, “I’ve missed you _so much_ , kiddo.” She gave Max a squeeze.

Max had thought of Joyce a lot in the eight years since the storm, and not being able to save her was always one of the worst regrets of her life. Being wrapped up in her arms again felt like a second chance. The smell of cigarette smoke and bacon brought back so many memories. She fought back tears as she breathed, “I missed you too, Joyce.” 

She would never have any idea how much.

She let go of Max and filled a third coffee cup for her. “So everything is all set up so that you can stay with us for the week.” She winked, “and don’t worry, I haven’t told Chloe you were comin’.” Joyce chuckled, “that girl is gonna lose her damn mind.” 

Max took a seat next to her mom, “I'm so excited to see her!" She picked up the coffee and began sipping on it. Internally she grimaced. She hadn't drunk anything but lattes in years. She made a mental note to grab espresso later, but she would need money first. She added 'stop by the bank' to the mental list of things to do. 

All things considered, what with having woken up almost a decade sooner than she expected, it was an understandably short list.

"So," Joyce picked up the coffee pot again, "do y’all know wha’cha’d like?"

"I do!" Max announced. "Two Belgian waffles, please!" If she was back for good, she was going to be enjoying all the Two Whales waffles she could. It might have been a mixture of guilt and nostalgia talking, but they’d never quite been the same anywhere else. 

After Joyce took Ryan and Vanessa's orders, she went back to work, promising to talk more in a bit. As she left, Max’s dad cleared his throat. “So, Maxine. We’re going to have your bags put in Joyce’s car and she is going to take them to the house. We’ll leave you here with your bike so that you can get around, and we will see you in a week.”

“That’s not to say we won’t expect calls!” Vanessa piped up. “We still want to hear from you at least three times this trip. Please? Humor us.” She said it very matter-of-factly, as though there would be no discussion about it. 

Max sipped on her coffee more as her parents laid out their rules for her being there without them. She was not looking forward to reliving over eight years of her life. It was crazy to think how much she had taken being an adult and living on her own for granted now that she wasn’t physically that old anymore. 

After several okay’s, yes mom’s, of course dad’s, and the odd mhmm, Joyce finally brought their food to their table. The meal passed in a haze as Max realized that this, _all of this_ was for good. 

It was her new reality. 

There would be no more lazy mornings in bed with Chloe, no more trips to the studio for early clients, no regretting her choice to sacrifice the town. She wouldn't be able to drink her homemade lattes from her favorite owl mug in the mornings. And worse, she couldn't even remember where she'd gotten it now. And so much of the music she loved was a thing of the… past? Future? 

Oh god… the memes! 

She would have to relive some awful, outdated, meme formats. And her phone and the camera quality on it were going to be clunky for years. 

And probably the worst thing of all, she had to endure highschool again. All the bullshit it entailed. The homework, the submission to parental authority, the raging hormones of her peak teenage years. 

If she'd known this would be the price of her choice, would she still have gone back? 

Chloe's notes to Rachel barreled to the front of her mind, and her fork stopped on its way to her mouth. Her stomach twisted as the words that would never be written burned bright in her memory. 

Vanessa's voice broke through the fog. "Maxine? Are you alright? You look sick."

"Yeah," she managed to croak. "I'm fine. I just…" she floundered, "uh… realized I forgot to pack Captain." She suddenly ached to hold her teddy bear, another casualty of her choices in a life that no longer existed.

Across from her, Ryan laughed, "I packed him for you." He winked, "did you really think I'd let you forget him?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, Max beamed at her father. "Thank you, dad!" Why did the idea of a stuffed animal she hadn't seen in almost a decade suddenly make her feel so grounded? 

"Of course, Sweetheart." He looked up as Joyce came by the table. 

"I'm about to go on break if y'all wanna meet me outside?" 

Vanessa looked at her apron. "Oh, we need our cheque, Joyce."

"Nonsense!" She waved the thought away. "It's on the house."

"Uh…" Ryan and Vanessa exchanged a look. He asked, "are you sure? You won't get in trouble, right?"

Joyce winked, "my regulars from this mornin’ already paid your bill." She shrugged, "and I'd like to pay for someone other than my daughter to eat free for a change." 

Max sat quietly by as the 'adults' discussed Chloe for a moment before they all headed outside. While Ryan grabbed her bag and bike from the car, Vanessa gave Max a tight hug. 

"We'll tell grandma hello for you." She pulled back, "remember what I said about calling." She shot Joyce a grateful glance, "and I know I don't need to tell you this, but don't make life for Joyce difficult."

The waitress waved the thought away with a laugh, "Max always did a good job o’ keepin’ Chloe honest.” She laughed, “I think this might be the easiest week I've had in years!" 

Max smiled, "I'll do my best Joyce."

Once her things were in Joyce's car, they stood together to wave Ryan and Vanessa off while Joyce finished her cigarette. 

As the car pulled around the corner and out of sight, Joyce turned to look at Max. She shook her head as she exhaled a small plume of smoke, "Well, I expect you'll be wantin' to know where to find Chloe now."

She nodded, feeling eager to get to her and Rachel. As much as Max wanted to stay and speak to Joyce, she wasn't the one with a timer ticking down on her life.

There might still have been a day left before Rachel would die, but she needed to talk with them first as just Max. She couldn't drop the whole time travel thing on them and the fact that Rachel was doomed to die the second she got there.

She'd sound nuts. 

Max could just see it now. 

_"Oh hey Chloe! I know it's been a long time, except it really hasn't for me since we were married for years. Hi Rachel! I'm Max! Chloe might have talked about me. Also, I can time travel and I'm here to keep you from being murdered by the teacher you're sleeping with and the rich prick you're friends with who he's training to be a killer like him."_

Yeah… that would go over great.

Max nodded to Joyce's question. "As much as I want to stay and chat-"

"Oh I get it Max, don't worry." The older woman waved away her apology with a chuckle. "I was your age once, you know? I had better things to do than hang around with old fogeys all day too."

Max rolled her eyes. "Please Joyce, you're _so_ not old!" She may have only been 26, at least in her experiences, but she felt like forty really couldn’t have been much different than thirty. 

“Hmmph,” she laughed before taking the last drag from her cigarette. “Good save, Max.” She shook her head as she rubbed the butt’s cherry against the low wall that separated the sidewalk from the parking lot. “Do you remember where the junkyard in town is?”

Max nodded, “I’m pretty sure I do.” She actually meant it too. It had been a long time since she had thought about how to get to it. “It’s up the street on the edge of town, right?” 

Beaming down at Max, Joyce nodded. “Good memory, kiddo. There’s a sign that points to the turn you need to take. It’s a little road, but on your bike you shouldn’t miss it.” 

“And…” Max did her best to act uncertain about it, “that’s where Chloe’s at?” She grimaced, “The junkyard?” She was sure Joyce would like that reaction. 

“Unfortunately,” she deadpanned. “She and her um… _friend_ , Rachel spend a lot of time there for whatever reason.” 

Max smirked, “ _friend_ , huh?” 

A small amused smile tugged at Joyce’s lips. “They’re not as sneaky as they think they are.” She winked conspiratorially. “But don’t tell her I said that. I want her to be able to tell me when she feels comfortable.” Joyce slipped her lighter back into her apron, “with everything else that’s happened in her life, I can’t imagine comin’ out would be an easy thing to do.” She looked around the parking lot, “especially in a little place like this.” She sighed, “but I should be gettin’ back to work.” 

Opening her arms for another hug, Max stepped toward Joyce and the two squeezed each other before letting go. “Thank you so much, Joyce.” She waved as the older woman turned toward the diner, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Joyce waved over her shoulder as she walked away, calling over her shoulder, “until tonight, kiddo.”

Once she had walked back inside, Max put a hand on her messenger bag as she took in the diner, the street, and all of the town she could see. People strolled the sidewalk, and across the road at the gas station, a trio walked toward the doors of the small mini mart, engaged in conversation only to stop and exchange hugs between the three of them. And none of them had any idea that they had- or… were _supposed_ to be dead in just six months time.

It was so surreal being back again. One more time, she closed her eyes, feeling for the ‘edges’, but again felt nothing. 

This moment was all there was. 

Shaking her head, Max got on her bike, suddenly missing her old Honda like crazy. She still wasn’t thrilled about the idea of reliving her life from seventeen. 

But it looked like she didn’t exactly have a choice in that. 

Before she took off, she pulled out her camera to take a quick selfie. If this really was for good, then she wanted to take periodic photographs in case she needed to come back to some point for any reason. She scoffed quietly to herself, feeling like she was saving her progress in a video game. 

Once the photo was tucked safely into her bag, she was off and rolling through Arcadia Bay, all the while experiencing the weirdest sense of deja vu she’d ever had. 

And that was saying something for someone with time travel powers. 

But after a quick trip through town, a few minutes along the shoulder on the highway, and five more down the small road that fed into it, Max finally arrived. She stopped next to Chloe’s truck at the entrance of the junkyard and just stared. 

Everything still felt like a dream, but she was actually there, before Rachel died. 

She could fix this. 

She _had_ to fix this. 

Kicking the bike’s stand down, Max walked through the all-too-familiar piles of junk, each step a new experience in deja vu. Everything was almost exactly as it was going to be when she saw it for the first time in a few months, and it was hard to tear her eyes away from the seemingly insignificant piles of junk.

At least it was until _she_ stepped out. 

Walking out from behind the school bus came a girl she’d seen a thousand times in pictures, but the images never did her justice. Her stride was graceful, her body, even for eighteen, curvy and eye catching. Her hair was thick and hung in a wave that framed her beautiful face perfectly. And there was that blue feather earring, and the bracelet that never left Rachel’s wrist. 

In her hand was a half-used roll of toilet paper. 

She stopped in her tracks and turned, noticing Max staring at her, standing as awkwardly as possible at the junkyard’s entrance. The light from the sun caught her blonde hair, and the intense look in her eye caught Max off guard. 

It was like seeing a ghost. 

Her heart sped up as they locked eyes, and seeing her gorgeous full lips, Max felt her breath catch in her throat as Rachel condescendingly asked, “you know it’s rude to stare, right?”

“Ah…” what was it about teenage girls that was so much more intimidating than adult women? “Sorry!” Max smiled, “you’re… Rachel, right?”

Rachel’s eyes went wide for a moment, and something like fear shone in them before she recovered and looked Max up and down. There was a quaver to her voice as she said, “M-Max Caulfield.”

…

* * *

…

Much as Rachel loved their little hideaway in the junkyard, American Rust made one thing abundantly clear in it’s name. Metal abounded. Every step through the place promised your next tetanus shot if you weren’t up to date, and rust was indeed the main feature. It shone through the broken glass and chipped paint like a reminder of the rot that ran beneath Rachel’s own life. 

But the primary feature of the rust served to remind her that, while there was as much twisted, decaying metal as she could ever dream of, there were zero porcelain objects in which to pee. She and Chloe had learned to make do a long time ago of course by digging a hole or just peeing at the top of the slope behind the bus. 

Maybe she was pampered from the life her parents had provided, but a part of her just never got used to the rough and tumble ease with which Chloe had quickly grown accustomed to the practice. 

They at least made sure to keep toilet paper in the junk shack though. With all they drank out here, it was an absolute requirement. 

That and Rachel was not about to wipe her ass with leaves. She may have been a girl scout, but she wasn’t a barbarian. Chloe though? Suffice to say Rachel bought the toilet paper.

As she rounded the bus and headed back, the shadow of a feeling passed over her neck like a stranger’s unwanted touch as she realized she was being watched. 

Now, it wasn't unusual for Rachel to find someone staring at her. She was young, attractive, and managed to stand out no matter where she went due in one way or another. If anything, she was offended when she _didn't_ find someone staring at her. 

The junkyard wasn't usually a place it happened though. 

Unless Frank was dropping off something for them. Then the skeevy perv would sit there and eyefuck her half the time. If anything, he'd only gotten more blatant about it since she'd been with him. 

But she was scared to say anything about it in front of Chloe. If Rachel snapped at him while she was around, well… he'd told her a long time ago that Chloe was a terrific customer when she was pissed. He only had something to gain by telling Chloe about how her bestfriend had fucked their drug dealer. 

After all, it wasn't out of character for Frank to do something like that. And neither of them had exactly told him the full extent of their relationship. And it wasn’t like she went out of her way see him much anymore either. 

If he knew… well, Rachel would just rather he didn't. 

Instead, Rachel usually ducked into the junk shack when he came by now, letting Chloe deal with him when it had to be done.

With it being the twentieth, they were expecting a delivery that day, which was why, when she felt eyes on her, she turned to confront the person they belonged to. He may have been giving her a ride to Blackwell, but that didn’t mean he got to ogle her like she was a plate of beans.

But as her eyes landed on the girl they belonged to, she felt a strange sense of recognition, though she wasn’t sure why. While Rachel was thankful it wasn’t Frank, she still asked in the most condescending tone she could muster, “you know it’s rude to stare, right?”

Who just walked into a junkyard and stared at a stranger anyway? Rude. 

“Ah…” The freckled girl paused, her eyes widening in realization. “Sorry!” She smiled awkwardly, “you’re… Rachel, right?” There was a knowing look in her eyes as she asked, almost like she didn’t need the confirmation, but asked anyway to make Rachel more comfortable.

And then Rachel’s eyes went wide as it hit her who this person was. Her mind reeled as she took in mousy brown hair, freckled pale skin, wide blue eyes, and scrawny limbs that looked like they could be carried away on a particularly strong breath. She felt herself gulp, and there was a quaver to her voice as she asked, “M-Max Caulfield?”

Her bravado failed her as she beheld the one person she most feared seeing. It was no secret that Chloe loved Max. They had been best friends after all, and Chloe wasn’t the type of person to just let the years and lack of communication change that. Moody as she could be, she was a total softy. 

Max Caulfield was the one person who she was sure could rip the pathetic, fragile little world of lies that Rachel had wrapped herself in to shreds. 

After all, she was certain that Chloe had only clung to their relationship for as long as she did because there wasn’t another alternative. She may not have wanted a relationship with her former bestfriend, but she was an old confidant, a friend whom Chloe could place her trust and faith in entirely. Rachel was sure she only occupied the place in Chloe’s life that she did because Max had been absent from it. 

If Max hadn’t left when she did, god only knew who Chloe would be today. 

But one thing Rachel was certain of was that Chloe wouldn’t be her’s. Not after her stunt with the breakup at least. With Max at her side… Chloe didn’t need her. 

“Wow!” Rachel said. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She smiled warmly, determined not to act like this was the end of her world. And she couldn’t act coldly toward Max if she had any hope of not losing Chloe. Treating her oldest friend like shit would only reflect badly on her. And even if it was going to be their undoing, she would at least approach it with some dignity. 

Swallowing her pride, Rachel took several steps toward Max, extending a hand when she got close enough. “I feel like I’m finally meeting a ghost I’ve heard so much about!” 

With what seemed like a pained smile, Max took her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Somehow, the feeling is mutual.” 

Mutual? How? Had Max stalked them down online or something? 

Wait. 

Was she… jealous?

Taking back her hand, the two stood for a moment in silence before Rachel asked, “so. What brings you back to Arcadia Bay?” Her appearing out of the blue was more than a little strange. 

Especially at the junkyard. 

“It’s…” Max shook her head, scoffing. “It’s kind of complicated. But I was hoping Chloe was here.” She looked over Rachel’s shoulder toward the shack before casting a glance around the junkyard as if searching. “Is she here?”

There was a kind of desperation in that quick glance that Rachel knew all too well. It was looking for a place to anchor in an uncertain, dark sea. 

How in the fuck did Max know to find them here, anyway? Joyce, maybe? She _did_ know that this was where the two of them spent a lot of their time. “Yeah, she’s around.” Rachel nodded behind her to the shack. “So you know, she’s not exactly the same girl you grew up with.” She did her best not to sound too accusatory as she added, “you hurt her a lot by vanishing on her.”

A stricken look passed over Max’s face for a moment, but was quickly gone the next. She just nodded. “I know.” She smiled up at Rachel, “she might yell, but…” she shrugged, a sad, wistful smile tugging at her lips. “If you give her enough space, you’d be surprised at what she could forgive.” She said it gently, almost like she was offering advice rather than comfort for herself.

The way Max said it made shivers run up and down her spine.

And Rachel didn’t like that smile. 

In fact she hated it. 

There was something in it that caused all of her uncertainty and self-loathing to bubble to the surface like a tar pit, and she felt jealous before she could realize why. But it was something in Max’s eyes. It made her feel inadequate in how she felt for Chloe, and simultaneously hated herself even more for the things she had done to dull the love between them. 

But it was more than regret for ghosting Chloe in Max’s eyes. There was fear, and sadness, sure. But there was a distant longing in her expression too. It was the look of a war widow burying her dead spouse without the chance to properly say goodbye. Something about it seemed hollow, but there was more love in that look than Rachel could imagine. 

Max _loved_ Chloe. 

_Really_ loved her. 

As for what Chloe could forgive...

Rachel wanted to laugh in Max’s face. Yeah, Chloe could forgive her bestfriend disappearing on her. She already had a long time ago. 

Frank though? Chloe wouldn’t forgive that. 

Still, it was unnerving, the way Max looked at her after that. Almost like she knew what Rachel had done, and was trying to help her. 

Or maybe she was just paranoid. Four-twenty did that to you.

Rachel realized a moment later that she’d stopped breathing, and she inhaled a large breath to yell over her shoulder, “Price! We’ve got a visitor!” She didn’t mean to panic, but something about Max made her uncomfortable, and she just couldn’t let herself be alone with her any longer. 

She needed Chloe here, _now_. 

A knot formed in Rachel’s chest, making it hard to breathe. She needed to hold her hand, and feel a reminder of the way they used to be. Before things got so fucked up and she’d fallen down a hole so deep she couldn’t see light anymore. 

For the longest time, Rachel had existed in a dark pit, making her way through life by clinging to what was expected of her. It was a guideline in the dark, and it was all she had, because the black obscured everything else so completely, she wasn’t sure she had eyes. The light from the moon and the stars couldn’t reach her there, she’d been buried so deeply. 

But the abyss was comfortable in it’s obscurity. 

No one could see her there, and she had convinced herself that it made her happy. Rachel didn’t need anyone else in that quiet, comfortable, darkness. 

But in a moment of clarity, Chloe shined her light down like a beacon in that deep dark hole she’d existed in for so long. She brought life and light and love to Rachel’s life for the first time and, so accustomed to the dark was she, that it hurt her eyes. 

Like a parched beggar, she followed on her knees, hoping for the barest drops of rain to moisten her cracked lips. 

And Chloe had given her an oasis. 

She’d been her safe harbor, her guiding light in a world she’d only ever navigated by touch. 

As much as Chloe had been convinced that she needed Rachel, Rachel had needed Chloe that much more. She was the promise of a future in what was otherwise a structured inevitability. 

She hadn't meant to stray from that light. 

But the intensity with which it shone blinded her at times and as much as she feared losing it, she couldn't help falling back into that darkness. It was familiar, comfortable, and it was safe. 

But Chloe was always there to pull her back out again. 

Until Rachel felt the bottom fall out beneath her, sending her careening down until she forgot which direction the light even came from anymore. She still reached for it though, desperately trying to find her way back. Because as much as she'd convinced herself that the dark was safe, Chloe's light was home.

Because of that look in Max’s eyes, Rachel needed to feel that light more than anything now.

That look promised an end. 

What kind, she didn’t know. But it scared the fuck out of Rachel like she couldn’t believe. And even if that feeling would only be a ghost of it’s former self, she needed to see a whisper of that light again. Because more than ever, she was back in that suffocating darkness, looking up desperately for the vaguest glimmer. Now that she’d seen that light, she felt like all she could ever do was chase it’s beauty and promise without ever being able to reach it again. 

Thankful for the excuse to look away, Rachel turned, watching Chloe emerge, eyes down at her hands as she rolled the last of their weed into a joint. Without looking up as she walked to the junkyard’s entrance, she yelled, “wow, Frank! Early?!” She scoffed before swiping her tongue along the length to seal the paper. She started to look up as the joint held. She started to say, “and believe it or not, I even have some scratch fo-” 

All at once, Chloe stopped in her tracks as she looked beyond Rachel, and found Max there behind her. Her voice caught in her throat, and she just stared. 

She stared straight past Rachel, like she wasn’t even there, her voice quiet as she croaked, “Max?”

There was a palpable current in the air between them that made Rachel feel invisible as she desperately hoped for Chloe to see her. She needed her to look away, to realize that Rachel was still there, and was important enough to acknowledge. 

It was a stupid thing to want in the shadow of a five year absence suddenly being filled, but she wanted it like her next breath. 

Max’s voice was small as she replied, almost mournful. “Hey, Chloe.” 

“Max,” Chloe breathed. Her free hand curled into fist in an attempt to be mad, but tears were beading in the corner of her eyes, betraying her feelings. Still she tried to growl, “what do you think you’re…” She swallowed hard, fighting off the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, “You think you can just-” her nostril twitched in that way it did when she was annoyed, and she sniffled pathetically. “Fuck, Max.” 

Chloe dropped the pretense of attempted anger as she broke into a run, and flew by Rachel without even seeing her.

Behind her, she heard Chloe crash into Max, knocking the air from the smaller girl as she gasped, “I missed you, Caulfield.” She laughed, her voice thick with the tears that threatened to fall, “you sack of shit.” 

Rachel turned, feeling like an insignificant third wheel as Max said, “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I missed you so much! I know I fucked up.” She buried her head into the crook of Chloe’s neck in an all too familiar way that set Rachel’s teeth on edge.. “I know I don’t deserve-”

“Max, shut up.” Chloe sighed into her hair, “I’m glad you’re here. I thought you had forgotten about me.” Chloe’s arms tightened around her and held her close. Closer than Rachel could remember being held by her in months.

“Never,” Max said softly.

They held each other in silence for seconds that felt like an eternity before Rachel cleared her throat. Chloe looked back at her with an elated expression that she had the decency to at least look sheepish about a moment later. But almost immediately, her eyes darted back to Max.

“Sorry, Rachel.” Max muttered the words quietly as she finally let go of Chloe, wiping at the tears that clung to her cheeks. 

Why should she be sorry?

She only shrugged. “It’s okay Max.” It wasn’t. “I get it.” All too well. 

Chloe looked between the two of them, her brow furrowed, “I see you two have met.”

Rolling her eyes, Rachel smirked at her girlfriend, “well between all you’ve told me about her and the pictures you still have stashed at your place, I knew her on sight.” She could have written an essay about Max for all that Chloe had told her. But that didn’t explain… Her eye fell back to Max. “How did you know who _I_ was?”

The light did something weird as she stared at Max. Rachel could have sworn she watched her face, and her posture... flicker? They were different than they'd been a second before, and she was sure Max was standing almost an inch to the right of where she had been. It looked like a glitch in the Matrix or something, and Rachel blinked repeatedly trying to make sense of what she’d seen. 

Chloe had only been looking at Rachel and missed it altogether. 

Max didn’t even seem to notice what had just happened as she said, “Joyce mentioned Chloe’s friend Rachel would probably be at the junkyard with her.” She shrugged. “I guessed.”

Even her tone was easier now. She’d been so choked up only a moment before, but suddenly she was cool as a fucking cucumber. 

"Lucky guess," Rachel muttered as she told herself she was seeing things. 

Between them, Chloe chucked. "Yeah, my mom may not uh…" she reached to nervously rub the back of her neck as she glanced at Rachel. "She _may_ not have all the facts about that."

"Oh?" Max glanced between them curiously in a way that Rachel had seen stage actors do a thousand times. She was acting… badly. She even shot Rachel a knowing smirk as Chloe looked away. 

Rachel swallowed hard and scratched the pad of her thumb with her middle finger. It was an old nervous habit. For as many reasons she knew, there were more that she couldn't quite put her finger on as to why, but Max scared her. 

The younger girl only broke eye contact with Rachel as Chloe looked back at her, her expression shifting back to that faux confusion. Chloe continued, "me and her are kind of… uh…" she chuckled nervously again. "We're like… together?"

"Together?" Max glanced between them again, when suddenly her eyes widened. "Oh!" She said it like an adult would when a child told them something they already knew. Max closed her fists, leaving her middle and index fingers pointing straight out and spread them. She slid the two hands together until the webbing of her fingers touched each other as she asked, "like… _together_ together?" She glanced again at Rachel with that knowing smirk as Chloe nervously looked at her feet, her cheeks turning bright red.

The way Max asked, Rachel could tell she was intentionally being obtuse. If she were a casting director, she wouldn't have cast Max as anything but a stagehand. She had to be fucking with her. Chloe was too nervous to notice the looks Max shot her, but every one felt like she was taunting her, saying ' _I see you._ '

Before she could stop herself, Rachel growled, "yes, Max. We fuck." Of course Chloe would tell her old best friend about them without hesitation. They weren't too explicit about their relationship in public, mostly because Rachel was nervous about how it would be received in the small town. The last thing she wanted was to be on the receiving end of a beating from some bucktoothed homophobe. Or worse, for Chloe to be.

Chloe had offered to fight anyone who gave them a hard time, but she'd respected Rachel's wishes nonetheless.

From the corner of her eye she saw Chloe look at her wide-eyed. It wasn't like her to so openly admit their relationship to a stranger, but she just knew Max was messing with her. 

She _had_ to be. 

"Wow," Max said, only breaking eye contact with Rachel when Chloe looked sheepishly back at her. "That's cool." She shrugged, "I mean I've got a few gay friends in Seattle and uh…" she chewed on her lip and looked down at her feet as she muttered, "I've had a girlfriend the last couple years too."

Rachel felt the wind go out of her sails at that last part. The little bitch _had_ been fucking with her! Max's nervousness actually seemed genuine there, but there was something more in the way she said it. There was too much hesitation, and her eyes looked glassy after getting the words out. Rachel asked, "you broke up recently, didn't you?"

Surprise was painted on Max' s face as she looked up at Rachel. "Uh-" she nodded quickly, "yeah." She took a deep breath and sighed. "Right before coming here actually."

"Oof," Chloe grunted. "Sounds like a bitch."

Max scoffed, glancing at Chloe with a wistful, almost amused, smile. "She had her moments."

Knowing that Max was… gay? Bi? Either way, it served to simultaneously put Rachel at ease, and made her feel even _more_ anxious about her being here. 

The only thing that had kept Rachel's paranoia about Chloe leaving her for Max at bay was the thought that Max wasn't into chicks. But now? Well, Rachel suddenly felt like her days were numbered. 

Chloe gestured toward the shack. “Lets go sit down, and you can tell me about what was so important that you couldn’t get back the last five years.” She pushed her elbow into Max’s ribs as they made their way to the junk shack together. 

Rachel watched them go, jealousy rising in her throat like bile before she pushed it down. 

It wasn’t something she was allowed to feel. 

Instead, she kicked at the smaller items that littered the ground as she trailed behind the two of them. Ahead of her, Chloe offered the joint she had been rolling earlier to Max. “Do you toke?” 

Purposely walking slowly, Rachel watched as Max turned down the joint with a small laugh. They entered the shack, neither seeming to notice her absence. It was a foreign feeling, being excluded from something. And it sucked. But she figured it would be several minutes at least before Chloe even realized she wasn’t around. 

Her fingers drummed against her back pocket, itching to grab her phone to message Mark. It might have been counterproductive to her efforts to do right by Chloe, but was there even a point if Max was here? Rachel could easily spend the weekend in bed with him and she’d never notice. 

From inside the shack, as if on cue, Chloe yelled, "hey, Amber! Quit dragging ass, or I'm gonna smoke this joint to myself!"

A small smile tugged at Rachel's lips as her hand strayed away from her phone. She started toward the shack with a small bounce in her step. It was amazing what a little attention did for her ego, especially when she felt like shit. 

It was nice to be proven wrong now and then.

Even if she ended up mostly sitting by quietly, it was nice to sit and watch Chloe reunite with her oldest friend. She had harboured so much resentment toward her for leaving, and Rachel could have sworn she watched her go through every stage of grief ten times over since they’d met. 

But even if she was happy for them, she still couldn’t fight the feeling of being threatened by Max’s presence. How could she hope to hold a candle to someone who knew Chloe so thoroughly. Granted, everything Max knew was pre-post-William world, and Rachel had seen her through some of her worst nights since. 

That had to count for something. 

She liked to think it did anyway. It almost made it easier to ignore the fact that what Max represented was the happiest period of Chloe’s life. Rachel, on the surface had eased the shitty portion sure, but all she’d really done in the end was spoil it like a carton of milk left in a hot car. Rachel wasn’t much more than the curdled remains of what could have nourished Chloe’s life. 

Rachel’s phone buzzed twice in her palm, and she picked it up immediately, grateful for the excuse to not have to listen to Max and Chloe bond over their shared past as they caught one another up on the present. Happy as she was for the distraction, the feeling was quickly quashed when she saw a message from Frank waiting for her. 

Great. 

She had front row tickets to her girlfriend being taken from her, and the only person who wanted to talk to her was the drug dealer who wouldn’t leave her alone. 

How had her life gotten so pathetic?

_ Sat at 3:21pm _  
**Frank:**  
_I’ll be there in about an hour._

_Before I drop you off… can we talk?_

Fan _fucking_ tastic. The _last_ person she wanted to have to deal with right now was Frank. 

Rachel glanced at Chloe and Max as another pang of jealousy drove her self-worth further into the dirt. 

As she message him back, she muttered, “Frank’ll be here in about an hour, Chloe.”

“It’s about time,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Been waiting on his ass all day.”

Rachel scoffed, “what do you expect from a guy who lives in an RV and deals?” She shook her head, “he’s giving me a ride to Blackwell after he sells you some bud, by the way.” Even if she had to deal with Frank for a bit to do it, she couldn’t wait to smoke with Nathan. He could be a dick at times, but he usually had the best shit. 

Granted it was pretty much always Frank’s, but hey. Free weed was free weed. 

And spending time with Nathan alone was usually better than with anyone else. All pretense of a social performance was off for them both when it was just them. Granted it was mostly bitching and moaning about their lives back and forth, but even fucked up, privileged kids had to stick together. 

Guilty, she added texting Mark to her to-do list once she was in Frank’s RV. When she was done getting high with Nathan, maybe he could make her feel a little less guilty for a few hours. Granted it would spike the next day when she saw Chloe again, but she just needed someone to hold her right now. 

Max shot a look between Chloe and Rachel with a look of apprehension on her face. Fucking weirdo.

A grimace crossed Chloe’s face, “ew, you’re actually going to climb into that rathole?” She quirked an eyebrow at her girlfriend. “What’s going on at Blackwell?” Rachel could see the muscle in Chloe’s cheek flex as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. “Another Vortex Snob party I’m not invited to?”

Slipping her phone into her pocket, Rachel rolled her eyes. “Chill, Tiger. I’m just hanging with Nathan for a bit tonight, remember?” She shrugged as Chloe passed the joint. “He’s got, and I quote, ‘the dankest bud you’ve ever smoked.’ Unquote.” 

She furrowed her brow, thinking back for the conversation as Rachel took a hit. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, exhaling “Remember yesterday? I was painting your nails and-” She stopped mid-sentence, and a small smile formed as she remembered that she hadn’t told her. “Oh yeah.” She grinned, “I was _about_ to tell you, but I distinctly remember my pants went missing about then.” 

Max’s fingers rubbed at the bridge of her nose and she let out a slow breath as Chloe said, “best conversation I can remember avoiding.” She winked. 

Loudly clearing her throat to get their attention, Max asked, “what day is today?” She looked panicked for some reason. 

What the fuck was _her_ problem? Rachel took another quick puff before passing it back to Chloe.

Grinning, Chloe gripped the dying joint between her fingers. “Just the best holiday this side of Christmas, Max.” She took a long drag, and answered in a croaky voice as she held in the hit. “Four-twenty.”

Max whispered a sharp, “fuck!” Suddenly she looked far away as she muttered, “they left a fucking day late!” There was something in her voice that suddenly sounded older, and there was an intensity in her eyes that was almost unnerving. In an instant, Max looked less like a teenager and more like someone’s parent about to chew them out. 

“You uh…” Chloe nervously glanced at Rachel before looking back to her. “You okay, Max?”

“No,” she snapped. “My parents were supposed to leave _yesterday_!.” She reached into her hair and gripped her scalp as she let out a frustrated sigh. Max muttered, “they left _on time_ last time.”

“Max?” Rachel sat forward actually feeling concerned for her, “what is it?”

Her eyes flicked between Chloe and Rachel before she shook her head. “I thought I was going to have a day to ease you two into this,” she grumbled. 

Chloe shot Rachel a look that mirrored exactly what she was thinking before asking, “the fuck does that mean? Ease us into what, Max?”

Her shoulders sagged and a look of defeat crossed her face. Finally Max shrugged, looking annoyed. “I… I have a lot to tell you two, and _apparently_ not much time to say it in.”

A look passed between Rachel and Chloe as she took a long drag off of the joint before handing it off to her girlfriend. “I think you’re going to need this,” Chloe muttered. 

While Max sat gathering her thoughts, Chloe reached into her pocket to retrieve her pack of cigarettes. Inside, another joint was tucked neatly away. Chloe leaned close to Rachel and waggled her eyebrows, “you wanna butt fuck me, Rach?”

Smirking in spite of the jealousy she felt, Rachel leaned forward as Chloe held the joint between her lips and began breathing deeply as Rachel pressed her cherried joint against the fresh one. 

Chloe puffed the joint to life as Max heaved a heavy sigh. “Look, I kind of have something... “ Max took a deep breath as the two looked at her. “I have something that’s honestly fucking crazy that I need to tell you both.” There was a weird gravity to Max’s voice as she said, “it’s kind of why I’m here.”

Rachel arched an eyebrow at Chloe, who only shrugged before looking back at Max, “shoot sista.”

“So… ah…” Max rocks back and forth, looking uncertain. “Look, I’ll be honest. This is going to sound absolutely batshit insane. I know you’re not going to want to believe me. But I can prove it.”

Chloe’s face mirrored the skepticism that Rachel felt, and she was thankful it wasn’t just her. “Oooookay, Max. We’re listening.”

Max only shakes her head. ”I kind of have the power to travel through time?”

Chloe barks out a laugh, “yeah, okay.” 

What kind of stupid joke was this? 

Rachel shot Chloe a questioning look, to which she shrugged. “Hey, Max never mentioned this when we were kids.” She pulled a deep inhale from her joint and held the smoke as she muttered, “whatever this is, it’s a new delusion.” She exhaled a thick cloud over the three of them that hung suspended like a vaporized skunk.

“No, really!” She looked exasperated as Rachel and Chloe both stared skeptically back. “I’m able to pass between different…” she looked like she was searching for the right words. “Different _moments_ in my life by looking at the pictures I’m in, or took. As long as I remember the moment as clearly as I can, and focus on a photo, it more or less becomes like a…” she shrugged. “A portal, or a wormhole, or _something_.” 

“Bullshit,” Chloe scoffed. 

“Agreed.” Rachel deadpanned, puffing on her joint. 

“So you have the power to travel back to any point in time and you wait until after we haven’t talked in almost five years to reappear?” Chloe hit the joint, trying to suppress the anger that Rachel knew was building. It was the last thing Max should have been joking about in front of her.

Holding up her hands, Max nodded. “I’m serious.” She had a slightly anxious look on her face as she threw up her hands defensively. “I know how it sounds, Chloe. Trust me, I would have come back before now if I had the choice, but I’m in uncharted territory with my powers right now.” She gestured to their surroundings, “they operate under weird rules. I usually can’t stay in the past for very long before I’m forced back into my most recent timeline. But this time, they put me here instead of _my_ present, and as far as I can tell, it’s permanent.” 

Chloe glared silently at Max, the easiness of their half an hour prior forgotten. 

Despite her girlfriend’s growing anger at the topic, Rachel was at least high enough that she was interested in playing this little game. “So, when are you supposed to be from then, Future Max?”

She gave a huff, clearly annoyed as she answered, “twenty-twenty-one.”

“Two-thousand twenty-one?” Chloe snorted a laugh. “What’s the future like?”

“Mmm,” Max hummed considering the question for a moment. “Well, Donald Trump was president, And he was largely supported by the KKK and white nationalists. His borderline fascist administration allowed the country to tank, all the while instigating social division and unrest against anyone who challenged the status quo. Oh, and we were coming out the other side of a global pandemic that killed millions.” She nodded, “so, shitty.”

Chloe’s head dropped into her free hand as she let out a loud belly laugh. “And you said you don’t get high!” She cackled. 

“I can prove it’s real.” Max looked between Chloe and Rachel, barely contained frustration clear on her face. “My power is more than just traveling through photographs. I can freeze and go back several minutes at a time, too. I call it rewinding.” 

Eyebrow shooting up skeptically, Rachel smirked as she asked, “rewinding? Like a VCR?”

A smug look spread across Max’s face as she held up a hand, her thumb and forefinger pinched together. The next second, she flickered and was bare millimeters to the right with Rachel’s feather earring dangling between her fingertips. “Something like that.” 

Her eyes bulged as Rachel tugged at her empty earlobe, feeling for her earring even as she watched it sway gently in Max’s grasp. 

And then, before she could say anything, she flickered, and Max’s hand was empty again, and Rachel could feel the feather tickling her neck as her fingers twitched against what had been open air a second before. 

“Rach?” Chloe’s eyes narrowed, having watched the whole thing. “Was that…?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, wanting to disbelieve it. “It really was.” 

Chloe started to ask, “how…?”

Max’s hand dropped as her eye turned to her best friend, making the usually stoic punk actually flinch away, as if expecting something similar to happen. “Chloe, when you were fifteen, you kept a diary that started as unsent letters to me. You even named it Max.” She nodded to Rachel, “you met her at a concert for a band called Firewalk at this old mill. She distracted these two guys who were giving you a hard time. You hit one with a bottle, the other punched you and gave you a black eye, and you two went and moshed for the rest of the show.”

Chloe tried to say something, but she looked like she was floored. “Ho-how the fuck do you-”

Max interrupted, shifting her focus to Rachel, and kept going. “Rachel, you started a forest fire that day. But, before that, you dragged Chloe along on a trip to a cliffside park to catch your dad with another woman that you later found out was your birth mother. You two hopped a train to get there.” She smirked, looking back at her best friend. “Chloe you were so nervous and crushing so hard that when you tried to make small talk about the weather, you said, like the useless lesbian you are, ‘nice _Rachel_ we’re having.’”

In spite of how shocked she felt, Rachel couldn’t hold back her snickers as she looked at Chloe. “You said that because you were already crushing on me?”

“You’re gorgeous!” Chloe’s cheeks started to turn red, “I was nervous,” she shrugged, quickly looking back at Max. “How the fuck did you _know_ that?” 

They had never told anyone but Rachel’s parents about the trip to the overlook, but they’d never told them most of those details. Especially about the fire! And Rachel knew for certain that Max never could have gotten that information from Joyce. Which really only left one option… But that was insane.

Max rolled her eyes, “as usual Chloe, you’re not listening!” 

Chloe went to hit the joint again, but as she closed her lips around it, it was gone. Max, only a moment before was sitting back in her seat, now sat at the edge of it, holding the joint between her finger tips. Her hand stretched out in front of her as if offering it to Chloe. 

She’d never moved.

As she snatched the joint back from Max’s outstretched hand, Chloe snapped, “stop fucking doing that!” 

Rachel sat back, the stubby end of her yellowed joint pinched between her fingers as smoke rolled out of her mouth. She couldn’t quite hide the fact that she was impressed as she muttered, “that’s a neat trick.” She’d been watching Max every time, and she couldn’t even begin to guess how she was pulling this off.

Next to her, Chloe scoffed and rolled her eyes, “yeah. A trick.” She shook her head, “so you learned to do magic from a kit and thought you could come impress us bumpkins, huh?” 

She sounded about ready to tear Max’s head off.

Max stared at the two of them for a second, almost looking bored, and sighed. “Fine.” Suddenly, Chloe’s shoes were on Rachel’s hands. Next to her, Chloe sputtered as she blew clumps of grass out from between her lips. 

Sitting back again without having moved and a smug look on her face, Max held both joints in her hands. “Believe me yet?”

For a second, all Rachel could do was stare at the shoes on her hands. There was no way. One second she was holding a joint, and the next, shoes were there. Except for the fact that she was sitting back, Max hadn’t moved at all. She dropped her shoes and slid them over to Chloe. 

Her girlfriend slipped her shoes on as she yanked the joints back again with her free hand. Chloe tossed Rachel’s dying stub on the spool in front of them, sounding shaken rather than angry as she muttered, “okay, so you can be a dick. That doesn’t prove you can rewind time.” 

“God, you’re a stubborn bitch.” Max, looking like an overworked daycare teacher, sighed in exasperation. “Okay, how about this? The first time I proved it to you, Chloe, we were at the Two Whales. You had me guess every item in your pockets, down to the amount of change you had and the time stamped on your parking ticket.”

Rachel grinned and nudged Chloe as she puffed on the joint like it was her only link to sanity, “imagine you, with a parking ticket.” 

“I’m insulted, Max!” Chloe put a hand over her heart with a look of mock surprise, “you took one look at me after five years, and just profiled me as the kind of person who parks illegally?”

Max scoffed, rolling her eyes, “religiously.”

A small snicker escaped Rachel, “looks like she’s got your number, babe.” She was definitely right on that count.

“Damn!” Chloe glanced at Rachel with a look of betrayal. “You’re both really gonna call me out, huh?” She shook her head, knowing when she was outnumbered. “Okay, so you want to do that with us? Guess what’s in our pockets?” 

“That’s what I was thinking.” Max nodded. 

Chloe rubbed out the end of her joint, placing it next to Rachel’s dead one on the spool. “Wait, when are we supposed to have done this, Max?”

“Ah…” she looked sheepish as she answered, “October eighth… of this year.” 

Rachel couldn’t help feeling skeptical as she asked, “so you’re saying that you traveled back eight years to come and tell us what’s in our pockets earlier than before?” 

Max seemed to weigh her answer as she mumbled, “for the moment.”

Chloe scoffed, not believing her, “whatever dude. Mystify us then.”

“Okay!” Chloe might have been a stick in the mud but Rachel at least was intrigued. “Tell me then, Smeagol.” She grinned, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, “what's in my pocket?” 

For just a second, Rachel could have sworn she saw Max flicker again, and moved a couple of centimeters to the right. This time, Rachel wasn’t so sure it was just the light.

“Rachel,” Max sat forward with a small smirk, mirroring Rachel’s posture. “You have a tube of lip gloss, a wad of dollar bills, two pieces of quarter machine candy, and your cell phone. And in your flannel, you have a compact and a small bottle of medication.”

Max immediately turned her attention to Chloe. “And you, Chloe-”

Before she could go on, Chloe interrupted, a competitive look on her face. She pointed a finger at her best friend like she’d caught her in an act. “Hold up! Details, Max! What's the makeup brands? How much money? What's the medication and how many are left? And what kind of candy, and what colors?” Chloe smirked. Angry as she had been moments ago, she looked like she was having fun.

Holding out her hand Max grinned as she held up a finger for each item. “The lip gloss is Marc Jacobs, it’s pink, grapefruit flavored, and is about two-thirds of the way gone. The compact is Elf and I didn’t look inside, but it’s got a scratch diagonally going from right to left on the face.” She cooly listed each item like she was reading a shopping list. “There’s eleven dollars, with a five, four ones, and a two dollar bill. The bottle has…” 

Max stopped, furrowing her brow before she flickered again. “There’s only three of your xanax left, Rachel.” She smirked, “you’ll need a refill soon.” Max started to sit back, but remembered at the last second, “oh! And the candy are those weird dog bone things, and they are blue and yellow.” She wiggled all five fingers with a smug expression. 

Wasting no time, Rachel pulled the items out of her pocket and stared down at the small pile. “No way,” she whispered. It was all there, down to the scratch on the front of her powder. She gave Max a wary look as she realized how dry her mouth was. “How the fuck-?”

“Bullshit!” Chloe sat forward in her seat and examined the things Rachel pulled out. But the longer she stared at the contents of Rachel’s pockets, the more slack her expression became. Chloe looked to Max, who seemed extraordinary pleased with herself. 

Finally Chloe nodded, trying her best to be skeptical. “Okay. Wow me, Future Max.”

“Chloe,” she tapped her finger on her chin as though it were a test question she couldn’t quite remember. “My sources tell me that you have your car keys, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a small baggie with a little weed, and a bit of change.” She cocked her head with a knowing grin, “almost exactly the same as October.”

“Okay,” Chloe took a second to think, but even Rachel knew some of that was actually right. But it wasn't like Chloe ever checked her pockets when she put her pants on. “What’s my keychain? How many cigarettes do I have left? What kind of lighter? How much weed? And how much change?”

With an overly mischievous giggle like Chloe was being adorable, Max held out her hand again. “Your cute little robot panda keychain, of course. There’s nine cigarettes left in your pack and the lighter is a silver zippo with a roaring gorilla head on it. There are three pretty crumbly nugs left in the baggy with a bunch of shake, and seventy-two cents.” Her expression grew smug again as she held up all five fingers. “And your change is a quarter, two nickles, three dimes, and seven pennies.”

Chloe pulled the items out and separated them out. Her head fell into her hands, her mouth agape. “Amazeballs,” she whispered before she sat back and stared at the ceiling.

“I can show you more if you want?” Max had a sly expression, looking far too pleased with herself now that she’d started to convince them. 

Without a thought, Chloe sat forward. “Yes!” She quickly shoved things back in her pockets as Rachel found herself feeling like that poster from the X-Files. 

She wanted to believe.

“Okay,” Max said. Within a blink, she was gone. Her voice came from the opposite end of the shack as she asked, “how’s this?”

Rachel jumped and fell backwards off the bench between it and the wall as Chloe screamed. They both turned to find Max on the bench opposite the car seat she had been sitting in.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Chloe was on the edge of her seat as she hauled Rachel back up onto the bench next to her.

She shrugged. “Nothing special. I just crossed over here and then rewound.” Max chuckled, “you two were confused when I just walked over.”

“Max, this is insane! You can get away with literally anything!” Chloe shook her head like she was imagining the possibilities. But it didn’t take long before she furrowed her brow. "Okay… so, if you have these crazy-ass powers, why did you come back now, and not in any of the other five years it’s been since you ghosted me?” 

Max sighed. She suddenly looked tired to the bone, like it was more than her body that was exhausted, “I wanted to Chloe. I’ve regretted for so many years how I treated you then, and I wish I could change it but…” she shrugged helplessly. “Like I said, they don’t work that way. My powers have weird rules and restrictions. I’m not some all powerful time god.”

“But,” Rachel eyed her skeptically, “you’re here. Now. Why couldn’t it have worked before?” 

“I-” she started. Her eyes drifted around the shack as if searching for answers. “I don’t know. This has never happened before.” Max shrugged, scoffing, “of course I’ve never fucked with time to this degree either, so that might be part of it.” 

“Fucked with time?” Chloe asked. 

Rachel narrowed her eyes, really looking at Max, and even Chloe looked like the gears were at work in her head. “Exactly how old are you, Max?” Rachel nodded to her, “ _you._ Not this _version_ of you that you’re…” she vaguely gestured at her. “Possessing, or whatever.”

Max started to open her mouth to reply, then stopped, sat back and crossed her legs. She looked pensive before finally answering, “that’s… a really good question.” She says it to herself more than Chloe and Rachel, and she sounds like she’s thinking out loud. “God, I was a photojournalist for five years, had my own studio for another three. I paused and rewound time several times in one shift, just to get the perfect shots.” 

Her eyes started darting around as she thought. “I probably froze time for…” she snorts, looking at the pair of them. “It’s weird thinking in terms of time when time doesn’t apply.” Chloe and Rachel both just stared at her. Chloe looked like she wasn’t sure what to say, but Rachel? She was interested, and laser focused. She was suddenly excited to hear an answer to her question. 

Clearing her throat, Max continued. “So, let’s say on average, I used my powers for three to five hours a day for five years, plus another couple of hours a day for three years before that?” She nodded as if confirming for herself, “Maybe just call it four and a half hours a day for about eight years... That means… uh...” She paused doing the math. 

Getting inpatient, Chloe huffed, “Jesus, Max. You’re killing me.” She started, “four and a half hours a day for a year, times eight years is…” she was only quiet for a second. “Thirteen thousand, one-hundred four hours. Divide that by twenty-four hours a day, and then by three sixty-five for a year and thats-” she blinked. “Wow… Eight years on eighteen, right?”

Max nodded.

“Damn, Max!” She looked surprised, “you’re like… thirty.”

She shrugged, “that’s not super dramatic for a time traveler, but…” Max laughed. “I’ve never actually thought about it before.” She shot Chloe a weirdly shy smile. “I forget every now and then how good you are at math.” 

Chloe shifted on the bench as Max gave her a strangely affectionate look. 

The way Max looked at Chloe was all too familiar for Rachel. It was almost like she was speaking to her as if this were a regular occurrence. Max trying to figure something out, and Chloe swooping in with the answer like it’s no big deal. 

The look Max first gave Chloe when she saw her outside, and the desperate way she searched for her when she first arrived came back and Rachel’s stomach felt like it was filled with hot liquid lead as realization washed over her. 

Max, future Max, the one who looked at Chloe with love written in neon in her sapphire irises, who talked to her with an intimate familiarity, and buried her head gratefully in the crook of her neck, melting into her embrace like slick chocolate in a toddler’s tight fist on a warm day; She loved Chloe in an easy and gentle way that Rachel could only compare to breathing. 

They were together.

Or… they _would_ be at least. 

And where exactly did that leave Rachel…?

“This is fucking trippy,” Chloe muttered, oblivious to the look that Max gave her. 

Rachel could already see that she was several thoughts ahead as her brow furrowed. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a second, almost afraid to interrupt whatever she was thinking. 

Seeing Chloe deep in thought the way she was usually meant there was something heavy on her mind. It wasn’t like her to dwell on something, quiet apprehension brewing in her narrowed eyes, her brow pulled in a tight scrunch that would put wrinkles on her face before she was thirty. Realizing how Max felt, it made Rachel feel all the more territorial, an unironic junkyard dog fighting for scraps against the owner who’d already called animal control. 

She needed to touch Chloe, if only to make herself feel better, a little more in control against the small freckled threat who could mold time like pastry dough. “What is it, Chloe?” Rachel wrapped her arms around Chole’s waist and rested her chin on her shoulder. She lightly pressed her lips to the shell of her ear, choppy ends of fading cobalt tickling her upper lip as she desperately marked her territory.

She’d be damned if she would just let Chloe go without a fight.

Chloe leaned in, pressing her cheek to Rachel’s forehead. Even from the angle she was at, Rachel could feel Chloe relax into her, and it served to calm the woosh of molten jealousy that swirled in her stomach, hardening it into a congealed mass of inadequacy. “Could…” Chloe stared at her feet, “does this mean that if I found the right picture, you could go back and try to save my dad?” Her voice was quiet and even as she asked, a tentative secret hope spoken almost like she was afraid to get her hopes up. 

It was a question that froze Rachel’s blood.

If Chloe had William back, if she never even lost him, would they have ever met? Not that she wanted her girlfriend to live without her dad if there was an alternative. But she couldn’t help being selfishly upset at what that could mean for them.

Max was quiet for just a little too long, and Rachel’s stomach clenched the longer it took her to answer. 

Finally, she said in a quiet voice, “Chloe…” she shook her head. “I’m sorry, that’s… the first thing I tried.”

Chloe felt boneless against Rachel as she squeezed her eyes shut, nodding like she understood. “Some things are just impossible, huh?” Rachel wrapped her arms tighter around her, her own insecurity forgotten as she felt a small quiver pass through Chloe like a freshly struck lightning rod. 

Rachel hated herself for the part of her that felt relieved.

She heard Max take a deep breath. “Chloe, it wasn’t that it was impossible. It’s just…” Chloe opened her eyes as she trailed off and both of them watched as Max went pale. There was an unmistakable look of anguish on her face.

The question was out of her mouth before she realized she had the intention to speak. “You okay, Doctor Who?” Rachel prodded her gently with her foot, more instinctively checking on her than consciously concerned.

It was nothing different than she would have done with Dana or Juliet or even Victoria if she found them upset and in need of someone. Even with people who she felt threatened by, the good natured caring that Rose had worked to instill in her came as easily as blinking. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that timeline just… It was messy.” Max shook her head as if trying to scramble the memories and keep them from forming a clear picture.

“What happened?” Chloe’s voice was small as she asked. 

What could possibly be worse than what happened to her dad? 

“You…” Max glanced out the window toward the railroad tracks. “You got in a car accident a few years down the line and… you were paralyzed… from the neck down.” She sounded distant as she went on. “I went to visit you when I woke up in that reality and we spent the day together, but…”

Chloe’s voice was somber, the words gently echoing inside Rachel’s skull as she asked, “what happened, Max?” 

Tears began to slide down her cheek and her voice was hushed. “Your lungs were slowly failing, and your parents were so deep in debt they were going to lose the house.” She sniffled, wiping her nose, “you were in so much pain all the time, Chloe…” She shook her head, “y-you told me that you wanted our time to-together to be your last memory.” Max tried to keep her emotions in check even as her body started to quiver. 

For the first time since she’d shown up, Rachel actually felt bad for Max. Ignoring the growing apprehension at what her being here meant, she pushed Chloe off of her and stood. She took two steps, and sat down next to Max, draping her arm around her shoulders in a loose hug. That Max leaned against her on automatic, resting her temple against her collarbone in search of comfort made her breath catch in her throat. 

It seemed absurd, being threatened by someone who was so kind. Even with her age, she still seemed to be the same gentle, sweet girl that Chloe had told her countless tales of as a child. Even imagining the story she told, Rachel felt a pit of sorrow open up in her gut at the thought. If she tried to help Chloe and accidentally hurt her even worse… to the point where Chloe was begging her to kill her? 

Tears beaded in the corner of her eyes for the thought. It hurt too much to let herself properly imagine. 

Her other hand reached across Max’s lap for her hip, pulling her close even as the girl seemed to go rigid at her touch. “It’s okay, Max.” 

After a moment, Max leaned gratefully into Rachel’s embrace, but didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. Finally, once her body was under control, she continued quietly. “I killed you, Chloe. I turned your morphine up on your IV to a lethal dose, and you drifted off to sleep.” She wiped her face with her sleeve as silent tears rolled down her face. “I stayed with you until you died. And then I went back, and made sure none of that ever happened.”

Max took a deep breath, “my powers are unstable when I travel through photos like that, so I only have so much control before I’m sent back to where I came from.” Her voice was almost inaudible as she whispered, “I went back and let William die. And then I burned the photo I used to get there so I’d never be tempted to try again.” 

“Jesus fuck, Max.” Chloe stared at her in quiet awe. “Wait…” her jaw quivered as her eyes bored into Max. “Then… that weird shit you said when dad walked out the door…?”

She gave the tiniest nod. “Yeah, that was me.”

Rachel’s eyes darted between them, not understanding. “What did she say?” She noticed her fingers absentmindedly making small shapes against her shoulder to comfort her, but forced herself to stop. As much as she pitied Max for having to endure that, she could only stomach letting herself show so much care to her. 

The jealousy that sat in her stomach like an acrid, gummy porridge said she should rip her hair out instead. 

Chloe sounded awed. “I never forgot because of how fucking weird it was. She was only thirteen, but the way she said it, it was like an adult had taken over my friend’s body.” She was quiet for a second, her fogged mind struggling to retrieve the memory. “She said, ‘I tried to make things different for you,’ and apologized that she couldn’t.” Chloe shuddered, “it had sounded so fucking weird at the time. She said something about how, even if it…” Chloe’s bloodshot eyes with pupils blown wide, landed on Max, her mouth falling open as she struggled to get the words right. . 

Almost as thought she sensed Rachel’s unease, Max’s finally pulled away and sat up properly. Rachel’s skin tingled where she’d come in contact with Max as if needles were trying to poke their way out of her, her body rejecting Max’s touch. 

Eyes landing on Chloe again, Max’s whole focus was on her. “I told you I would never abandon you, even if it felt like it. I wasn’t lying when I said I would always have your back.” Her smile faded, “after that, the moment ended and I was thrown back into the future. Back with you again.” 

“Thank you for trying…” Chloe’s jaw quivered, and she said in a small, shaky, but grateful voice, “you really _are_ my best friend.”

The two stared at one another, seemingly oblivious to the third person they shared the room with. Rachel hated being excluded, much less by two people with so much history both gone and apparently still to come. The jealousy throttled her stomach and rattled the bars of the cage she barely kept it contained behind as it forced the words she was determined not to speak from her lips. “What about me, Max? Are we friends in the future?” 

It was all she could do to contain the question she _wanted_ to ask in it’s place. 

_How soon do you take Chloe from me?_

Chloe smiled at Rachel as her’s and Max’s eyes broke contact. “Gotta be! I can’t imagine the future without you. And if she’s with me?” she shrugs, nodding to Max with a barely contained joy for the thought. “The three of us are probably ripping up Arcadia Bay in six months, right Max?”

But Max was quiet for just a little too long, letting the silence linger like a poison cloud in between the three of them. She avoided looking directly at either of them as she stumbled over a frantically constructed evasion. “I… I know things, stories, about you. But…” She shook her head. “No, Rachel. I’ve never met you before today.” 

The silence stretched between the three of them for a long moment. 

Rachel at least wasn’t surprised. Chloe would finally come to her senses soon, and Max would swoop in to ease the pain that Rachel would leave in her wake. 

Chloe though? 

She shot a nervous look at Rachel, a look that served to ease Rachel’s fears slightly before she managed to ask, “where does she go?” 

A vague memory of words spoken in bitterness rises to the surface of Rachel’s thoughts, and she can almost hear the train rumble along it’s rusted iron track as her words from that day roll through her mind.

_Don’t be surprised if one day, I’m just out of here._

They seem to echo in both of their memories, reverberating silently between them like a shockwave. Even now, Rachel knew they were part of the reason Chloe let her take the space she did. She was afraid that if she made her feel constrained too much she would wake up one day to find Rachel had just vanished. 

It was a hurt that had lingered between them so long, sitting and festering like a wound that never seemed to heal on the surface of their relationship. And Rachel had never been certain how to heal it. 

Max’s voice shook them from their shared memory. “Honestly?” She looked too nervous for Rachel’s comfort. “That’s the reason I came back to this time.”

Rachel scoffed, “you mean to tell me that you traveled eight years into the past just to come back to a point when we could be friends?” It had to be bullshit. “I’m flattered,” she deadpanned. She must have been here to mitigate the damage that Rachel was bound to cause, her selfish choices ripping through Chloe’s life like a puppy’s sharp new teeth through soft flesh.

“Sort of?” Max glanced at Chloe before looking back at Rachel. “Actually… can we go for a walk and talk?” Her eyes guiltily flicked to Chloe again before landing back on her. “Just the two of us?” 

“What the hell, Max? Where does she go?” Chloe can tell she’s keeping something from her. 

“Sorry, Chloe. I just…” Max nods at Rachel, getting to her feet. “There are just a few things I need to say to her first.”

She didn’t know why, but there was something about Max that made her believe that she needed to go with her.

Without a word, Rachel stood and leaned over Chloe. Before she can say anything, their lips collide roughly as fear that it could be her last chance to do so courses through her veins. She feels blue fingernails push up through her hair, scraping her scalp in the way that makes her knees want to buckle, and Rachel’s hand reaches for the back of Chloe’s neck. Their lips pressed together in a tight desperation that hadn’t been present between them in months. 

Her fingers rolled the uneven small hairs at the base of Chloe’s hairline while her other hand molded to her girlfriend’s jaw. Silently she was pleading for forgiveness as she finally pulled back. Chloe looked up at her with a dopey grin and a hint of the light she used to as Rachel’s hand lingered on her jaw. 

For a second she basks in the glow of that light, letting it seep into her bones and nourishing her frayed and guilty heart. Through tight lips she muttered, “we won’t be long.”

Chloe only nods, her fingers brushing the back of Rachel’s hand as she pulled it away. Turning toward Max she finds her already halfway out the door. A part of her felt bad for being so blatantly affectionate with Chloe when Max so obviously loved her. 

But it was only a small part.

She could feel Chloe’s eyes on her as she left, and heard the familiar scrape of thick paper that signaled Chloe opening her pack to reach for a cigarette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should be a fun, casual conversation, right? :D 
> 
> Well, I already have it written and I'm just gonna let you in on a little secret... it's not x.x
> 
> But you'll find out later ;D
> 
> Any theories on why Max was only dropped off here, rather than back to her 26 year old self? I promise, there's a reason! But I'd love to hear what ya'll think ^.^
> 
> I especially enjoyed Max's section of this chapter. But writing from Rachel's was definitely a nice change of pace from playing with Max. Exploring a more selfish, analytical side of someone was especially fun! 
> 
> How about Rachel's mental state in this chapter? She's a little bit of a dumpster fire for sure, but I want it to be clear that as much as she's fucking up, she really does love Chloe. Tbh I'm more scared that I didn't properly do her justice than anything else, because there's so much to consider with her. If there's one person in this I want to make sure I'm getting at least half right, it's Rachel. 
> 
> So please, if you feel me butchering her, say something :P 
> 
> But I digress. It'll probably be a couple of weeks before the next chapter. I've accidentally taken over a month to post a new chapter in my Miraculous Ladybug fic and I need to get working on that because I only have about half of it written. 
> 
> Oh! Speaking of that story? What's really weird is, reading over I have for it after editing this one? I feel like my writing is better over there?? O.o I mean, I'm still working from older pieces of this story before I wrote the over 100k worth of story I have there, so I know my writing has come up since I did this. But I swear, even the pieces I wrote to bring my story chunks together aren't as good as my writing for ML. 
> 
> Idk. Maybe I'm just crazy and hypercritical lol although I do feel like, despite LiS being a significantly less active fandom, that there is a much higher caliber of writer over here, making me that much more self-conscious :P 
> 
> But regardless! Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Next time, Rachel and Max are going to have an in-depth talk about the future, Chloe will dream of an alternate reality, stargazing in the truck, and Max will have a nightmare of a familiar event.
> 
> Remember your masks when you leave the house, and until our next chapter, I'll see you where I see you <3
> 
> Bye!


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